I Caught Fire
by glitteratiglue
Summary: ** ON HIATUS ** Bella Swan came to study in London to escape her painful past. One night of passion with Jasper Whitlock: a charismatic, yet haunted bartender will change everything. Can they find salvation in one another? AH,OOC. M for lemons/profanity/disturbing themes.
1. Paper Doll

**__22-year-old Bella Swan came to study in London to escape her painful past. She meets Jasper Whitlock, a charismatic bartender who hides the fact he is just as haunted as she is. Can they help each other to heal? M for profanity, disturbing themes & graphic lemons.**

**NOTE: This fic does include mention of self-injury, just in case any readers are sensitive to that subject.  
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**See, that says M up there - please don't read if you're under 18.  
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**This is my first AH story so I hope you enjoy it - please leave a review.**

***** Snaps for SydneyTwiMum - without whom I wouldn't have even started this crazy shit, Ladybugs_mum for her incessant encouragement, and SunKing for being an awesome beta and giving me help with the plot & figuring out a title. ***  
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******Disclaimer: ****All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. I don't own Bella or Jasper, but I do own a Rabbit *snort*.**

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_**Song: Coming Undone - Korn**_

**Chapter 1: Paper Doll**

**Bella's POV**

_Agh! _I started as the freezing air hit me. It was cold as hell today, good thing I'd worn my parka. I started searching my book bag, trying to find the cigarette packet that I knew was in there somewhere.

_Shit, where are they?_ _I NEED a cigarette._

I knew that this was the behavior of an addict, and strangely, that realisation amused me. Funny to think that I'd never even so much as taken a drag of another person's smoke until a year ago, when I came to London. Small-town USA wasn't exactly conducive to smoking, and nobody in Forks did it, not even the quasi-rebellious kids like Tyler Crowley.

Most of the students I encountered smoked like chimneys and it didn't take long until I joined them. I'd choked on my first one, spluttering, but the head rush it gave me made me want another. Soon I was smoking more and more, and not just when I was drunk. I had a ten-a-day habit now, which wasn't as bad as it could be but still wasn't great. I was aware that yellow fingers, teeth and ashtray breath definitely weren't good, so I used whitening strips and gum religiously, scrubbing my hands often to get rid of the telltale stain between finger and thumb. The nicotine had become something to live for, a reason to get up in the morning. That freaked me the fuck out, but it was true. I wondered what Charlie, my dad, would say if he knew. He'd shit a brick. But then, there were a lot of things he didn't know about me, things I hadn't been able to tell him over the past 18 months. We spoke on the phone once a week, and as far as I could tell he thought I'd gotten over it all.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

I did sometimes worry about what my habit was doing to my lungs, but I probably didn't do them much good each time I woke screaming in my sleep. It had become something of a routine for me, and I dreaded it so much that I'd often stay up till 3 or 4 in the morning, eventually collapsing into unconsciousness as I lost my fight against slumber. Several times a week, I'd wake up screaming blue murder, the sweat pouring off me as I relived the worst experience of my life inside my head. I'd tried to hide this when I arrived in London with extra-strength sleeping pills, but they zonked me so much I couldn't concentrate on my work, let alone anything else.

I would have lived alone if I could have afforded it, but my international student fees were considerable and rents sky-high in the city. Therefore, my housemates had to experience my nightmares along with me. I could tell by the awkward looks Mike, Jessica, Eric and Angela exchanged together in the kitchen sometimes that they could hear me whenever I woke up with my throat and chest raw from screaming. Maybe they thought I was crazy. Perhaps not Angela though. She was one of those rare people who was genuinely sweet and kind and we hung out together, even though the others gave me a wide berth.

Sometimes I thought Angela could see right through me, though, past my bullshit, confident tough-girl exterior, right beneath to all the ugliness inside. She was one of those people. Her room was right next to mine so I think she even heard the things I muttered in my sleep. She'd quietly asked me if I was okay before, as an invitation to say more if I wanted to, but I never did. I'd spent too much time and energy on cultivating the new Bella. She was tough, self-assured and had no problem being alone, and indeed, I was alone most of the time. It was easier to pretend when I didn't have to be around well-adjusted people. Sooner or later, the facade would start to slip, as it did sometimes when I met the eyes of Jessica, Eric or Mike. They were all clean-cut, smart American students who'd come to do their Bachelor's degree here and experience everything London had to offer. I used to be like them too.

I found the packet and pulled out a cigarette, breathing a sigh of relief. Fumbling with my lighter, I clicked it on and placed the cig between my lips. I drew in a deep drag and relaxed, feeling the nicotine soothe me.

_Fuck yes. Now I can face the day._

I sauntered down the path, heading for Camden Town underground station to catch the train that would take me to my first class of the day. I was in my second year of the English Literature degree now, and we had better stuff to read this time. Thomas Hardy was the first assignment. I liked his work: he was so uncompromising about human nature, a rare thing in a writer, and it fascinated me.

I suppose in terms of being a clean-cut American girl, I just stopped caring when I got here. I drank a fair bit, I had a one-night stand every so often, and I took drugs occasionally. Nothing unusual there – but it certainly wasn't the sort of thing that the old Bella would have done. Not that I was known as a crazy fucked up bitch, far from it – well, perhaps I was by Jess, Eric and Mike. I was pretty quiet, got on with my work, had good marks, and was generally well-liked, although I suspected I was seen as a bit of a loner. Not that I really gave a shit. My solitary existence was something I'd accepted as necessary. I spent most of my time doing homework in the library, or going out and seeing bands at various bars and clubs in the area, losing myself in alcohol and the loud beats to numb the pain. I did sometimes go out with other students from my course, or Angela, but I generally preferred to be alone.

As I reached the station and pulled my Oyster travel card out of my pocket, I looked around, taking in my surroundings. I liked living in Camden. It was a North London haven for alt-culture, with plenty of alternative, rock and metal bars, clubs, not to mention street stalls, and numerous tattoo and piercing studios. Kind of a shock for a girl who'd only lived in fairly conservative places in the US, but I'd grown to love it. Camden was way too fucking commercial, especially the market and the Lock, but there were still plenty of edgy, less-known places. Okay, I lived with my Mom, Renee, till I was 15 in Phoenix, which is a huge city, but it didn't have the vibe of London, a place that accepted you, no matter who you were.

London freaked me out at first, with the bright lights, noise and smells, but I quickly got used to it, relishing the anonymity it gave me. No one here knew me, and I prized that above all things. No one knew how damaged I was. I couldn't hide the pain when it came out in my sleep, but few knew about that. I had my ways of dealing with it, though. Ways that I took great care to make sure nobody ever discovered., especially my counselor. I'd been seeing her once a week ever since I got to London, and she was okay, but I was never really fully able to open up to her. She didn't know half of my story. To tell the truth, I knew if I told her anything real, I'd shatter into a thousand pieces and have a complete nervous breakdown. Or maybe even she'd think I was fucking crazy. Considering everything, I probably needed a psychiatrist, not a counsellor, but there was no way I was going to be able to talk about what had happened to me anytime soon.

I tapped my card on the touch pad and went through the turnstile. I sighed. Some days were better than others, and I could tell today was going to be a bad one. I drifted through my one lecture and seminar of the day, taking the requisite notes but barely there. This was definitely one of the bad days. I could feel the pain rising up within me, threatening to crush my chest with its intensity. The hand that held my pen shook over my notes, and I prayed the people either side of me in the lecture theatre wouldn't notice. As soon as the lecturer called that we were finished, I leapt up and blindly stumbled out, pushing past people in my haste to escape. I gasped in air as I pushed through the front doors and out onto the street. It was raining, and the city air smelled cool and clean, even though it probably wasn't. I inhaled deeply and lit another cigarette, standing in the shelter of the door as I smoked it.

When I arrived home, I fumbled with the key in the lock, trying to open the front door with shaking hands. I could see through to the kitchen. Jess was cooking. "Oh, hey, Bella!" she called with fake enthusiasm. I merely nodded to her, something she'd probably be pissed about later, but right then, I was so anxious to get to my room I didn't care. I ran up the stairs and unlocked my room, closing the door behind me and re-locking it as I went. Throwing the book bag down, I collapsed on my bed, still shaking, and tried to prevent the inevitable memory that I knew would come...

_I drove along the small, winding road, feeling nervous. I didn't know what state I'd find him in. It might be as bad as the time I'd found him by his bed in a virtually catatonic state, rocking and screaming. I wished his parents, Elizabeth and Edward, weren't out at work, as I could have done with some help on this. Regardless, I knew whatever was going on, I could sort it out. He was the most beautiful, compassionate soul I'd ever met. Not perfect by any means, - he could be jealous, obsessive and a perfectionist - but I loved him perfectly._

_We'd spoken three hours previously. "Hey," I'd said shyly, thrilled to hear from him when I hadn't expected to. "How are you?"_

"_Fine," he replied, a little stilted. "I know you're at work, I just – wanted to hear your voice. I love you so much, Bella."_

"_I love you too, silly," I'd replied, trying to lighten the mood a little even while panic clutched at my stomach._

_The tone of his voice sent alarm bells ringing, but I'd been unable to get away from work at the Newton's outdoor store for the next two hours, as it was full of hikers arguing over the price of tents. I jumped into the car the first chance I got and drove full tilt to the white house nestled deep in the woods. I tried the front door and it was unlocked, which was unusual for his family. _

_Cautiously, I stepped inside._

"_Edward?" I called tentatively, hoping he'd come down any minute, but there was no answer. Shit. I was really getting worried now. I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. An envelope __outside the entrance to his room momentarily distracted me, but I ignored it in my hurry to get in, kicking it out the way as I burst through the door._

_I clutched the door frame for support as I lurched forward and vomited all over the expensive rug I'd helped him choose just weeks ago._

Despite the fact that I'd deliberately avoided reliving the worst bit, I surfaced to find that I was curled up on my bed in the fetal position, shaking, tears pouring down my cheeks. It had probably been a couple of hours that I'd been lying there. My chest was tight, my breaths coming slowly and shallowly as my heart pounded out a jagged rhythm. I sat up, wiping the tears from my cheeks. It was time for my well-practiced method of pain control. I checked the door was locked, and then looked for the box I kept under my bed.

The reasons why I self-harmed went back to simple science I'd learned in Bio at Forks High. The brain has a gating mechanism for pain – if it hurts somewhere and you injure another part of your body, your brain will be forced to concentrate on the pain from the other injury. The same principle applied when cutting myself: by causing an injury, endorphins would be released by my brain, salving my emotional wounds and calming me. At any rate, it took the edge off the guilt and anguish that periodically washed over me.

I figured this was better than getting hooked on antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds, although it was probably no less addictive, and I'd had a few close calls where I'd cut deep enough to need stitches. I could never go to the ER, however, so I'd make do with my own clumsy stitching and a strong adhesive to hold the edges of skin together till they healed. I tried not to do it more than once a week, to give the fresh cuts a chance to heal, but that night I had to make an exception.

I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down over my hips, kicking them off. Cold metal touched warm flesh. I watched dispassionately, almost bored as part of my thigh turned white with the pressure I was exerting. Drawing the sharp edge of the scissors across my flesh, I pressed down and a trickle of blood emerged. Carrying on, I methodically made five more cuts, going slowly to increase the pain. Dark red droplets leaked down my thigh and I watched their path, fascination giving way to euphoria. With the sharp pain came utter relief.

I needed this pain.

I deserved it.

My whole body relaxed, and I let the blade drop. I held a tissue to my thigh to stop the bleeding. As I cleaned the scissor blades and swept a fresh antiseptic wipe across my neat rows of red, I winced at the sting even as I took pleasure in it. Stowing the box under the bed again, I sat back down and smoothed the bedspread. The blissed-out feeling was wearing off quickly, far too quickly.

Sighing heavily, I realised I was going to have to find another crutch for the night. Alcohol it was, then. I rifled through my closet, figuring I'd have to find something better than ripped jeans and a baggy hoodie if I was going to a bar. It was getting kind of late, but I could probably get a few drinks in. Of course, I could have drunk in my room, but I think that was the definition of "having a problem". Doing it at a bar alone was far more legitimate, in my eyes. Five minutes later I was out the door, having exchanged my scruffy student wear for a black tube top and skinny jeans, layering a light hoodie over the top for warmth.

I kept my faded pink Chucks on, though, because I loved them. They were falling to pieces, but they'd been a gift from Edward and I wasn't about to throw them out.

_Edward. NO._

That was exactly what I'd come out to forget about, and I was going to do it. I made for one of the busier streets in the area, where there seemed to be numerous bars. Several men eyed me speculatively as I passed them, a young girl on my own, but I shot them my just-try-it look and they let me alone.

Wanting to try a place I hadn't been before, I scanned the street and my eyes landed on a sign that said _Phoenix__._ It looked quiet, which was fine by me, and so I continued on to the entrance. The room was dimly lit, with dark drapes at the windows. As I took in the rich crimson hue of the carpet I was reminded of my own blood seeping from my wounds, but I shrugged off the thought. I pulled the door open and a waft of stale air hit me, the stench of beer mingling with sweat. A familiar and comforting smell. This was where I could find peace, if only for the night.

It felt good to be somewhere I could get a drink. It was warm inside the bar so I shed my hoodie quickly once inside, ignoring the wolf-whistles from a couple of men as I revealed my tube top. I suddenly felt a little shy and pulled my long curtain of dark hair forward so that it covered my unimpressive cleavage. Making my way over to the bar, I was pleased to hear one of my favourite songs blasting out of the speakers; Nine Inch Nails' _Closer. _I swayed my hips unconsciously to the pulsing beat, humming along : "You let me violate you, mm-hm-mm-hm-mm-hm-mm, you let me desecrate you."

I fell unexpectedly silent as I looked up and spotted him for the first time at the other end of the bar, pulling a pint. I gulped. This man had to be one of the most beautiful male specimens I had ever seen. The Sex God bartender had dark hair that waved just past his ears, slightly long but not to the point where it would look ridiculous. Tightly muscled arms strained through his papery thin t-shirt that clung to him, revealing a six-pack, which I'm sure was his intention when he decided to wear it.

I watched his muscles flex as he held the pump handle down to facilitate the flow of amber liquid into the glass he held. A moment later, his eyes turned to me and I jolted as if he'd shocked me with an electric current. A smirk was playing on his face. Had he caught me looking? My breath caught in my chest and my heart fluttered as I watched him hand the drink to a customer and operate the till. I carefully seated myself on a bar stool and absently drummed my fingers on the wood as I watched him make his way over to me.

Whoever this man was, he'd awoken something inside me. I couldn't recall the last time I'd felt such an instant connection to someone. Maybe it was just me, but I felt that a facet of my entire existence had altered the moment those azure eyes locked on mine.

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**N.B. I won't be depicting graphic self-harm again very much, but I felt it was important to illustrate how much of a problem it is for Bella. Sadly, it affects a lot of people in the world and I didn't want to skirt the issue.  
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**This is my first AH story so it's pretty scary. Actually, seriously - please review so I know that I haven't written a total crock of shit. Thankyou for reading & lots of love xxx**

**P.S. I'll be posting a weekly teaser & pictease for each chapter on my blog: http:/glitteratiglue(dot)blogspot(dot)com . I warn you, they're likely to be p0rny. Follow me on Twitter (glitteratiglue) to see when they'll arrive...**


	2. Azure

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, alerted and favourited this so far – I love you loads and I'm amazed that people are liking this. so far. Chapter 2...I hope you enjoy it and reviews are always highly appreciated, I respond to them all (unless they're unsigned in which case I can't).**

***** A shoutout to SydneyTwiMum for being my adorable fangirl & pimping this shit hard. And to SunKingFF for being a rockin' beta, as always. ***  
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_**Song: Use Somebody - Kings Of Leon**_

**Chapter 2: Azure**

**Bella's POV**

A pair of brilliant blue eyes met mine. "What can I get you, darlin'?" he said, with an easy smile. I detected a distinctive Southern US accent, and the way the vowels and consonants rolled off his tongue made his voice sound like liquid sugar. I wanted to hear this gorgeous man speak again.

"Double whiskey please, straight up," I replied, biting my lip nervously.

He raised an eyebrow, but turned away instantly to get it for me. My eyes instinctively lowered to see a tight, firm ass clad in blue jeans.

_God, he looks good._

What the hell was wrong with me? I'd slept with guys I barely knew before, sure, but just students from the university that I'd met at the union bar or through classmates. They were fumbling, inexperienced boys and the encounters had always been disappointing: nothing like what I'd been used to. Although, I was pretty sure my nightmares were part of my inability to enjoy myself during sex - a product of guilt from what had happened sixteen months ago.

_Bella, don't think of that. You can't._

Still, I hadn't had sex in five months and truth be told, I was pretty frustrated. My favourite Rabbit vibrator needed replacement batteries a little too often. I jumped as he turned and carefully placed my drink on the bar in front of me. "There you are."

I pulled my purse from my bag. "How much do I owe you?"

He merely waved a hand and I frowned, puzzled. "On the house. You look as if you could use a drink. Plus, it's a slow night and the free drink might bribe you to sit here and talk to me." He flashed a devilish grin at me, and I could feel a familiar heat in between my legs. This _god_ wanted to talk to me? It terrified and thrilled me at the same time. I longed to watch his beautiful lips form words again, but was concerned I was in too fragile a state to maintain my brittle veneer of normality.

"What makes you think I'd want to talk to you?" I heard myself say, and cocked an eyebrow.

The bartender chuckled, a throaty, deep sound that came from within his chest. "Well, you're here alone, aren't you, Miss Mysterious?"

"Maybe I want to be alone," I replied through pursed lips. This was becoming a war of words, a sparring match, and I had to admit I was sort of enjoying it. It looked like he was too, for despite the stern expression I carefully held on my face, his eyes were dancing with interest. I took a sip of my whiskey, grimacing slightly as it burned my throat. It wasn't normally my drink of choice, but tonight I wanted something different, and that didn't just go for the drink.

"You don't drink whiskey much, huh?" He smiled kindly at me and, for a reason I couldn't fathom, it tugged at me deep inside. Emotions welled up in me, and I could feel a tear at the corner of my eye before I blinked it away. No need for a random bartender to see how screwed up I was. He never took his eyes off my face, and I was pretty sure he'd noticed what had just happened, but he thankfully chose not to question me about it.

"I thought I'd try something different." I grinned at him, and he winked back at me.

"Good choice. I was born and raised in Atlanta, so whiskey is pretty much mother's milk to me," he said teasingly. "The preferred beverage for a good Southern boy."

"I could tell you were," I told him, and he smiled.

"So whereabouts in the good ol' US of A are you from? Are you studying here in London?"

"Yeah, at Queen Mary. I'm from Forks, Washington - a couple of hours drive from Seattle."

"Long way to come. I guess you're used to this fucking awful weather, though," he said, smiling to himself. "Being from Atlanta, I do get sick of the great British rain and cold. I've been here three years though, so there's been time to get used to it." The word _fucking _from his mouth sounded ridiculously hot. I realised that I was staring: I had to get a grip on myself. His blue eyes suddenly looked earnest, but then he blinked and they had changed. I opened my mouth to ask why he'd moved here, but I saw something stir behind his eyes and I bit my lip to silence myself. He apparently thought the same about me, because he immediately changed the subject.

He held out a hand to me. "My name's Jasper Whitlock." I liked the way that sounded. It was tempting to give him a pseudonym, but then I thought, what was the point?

"Bella Swan," I told him, clasping his hand in mine in a firm handshake. As our hands touched I felt a frisson of obvious attraction. If I wasn't much mistaken, Jasper Whitlock felt it too. Maybe he didn't find me as desirable as I found him, but maybe enough for what I needed tonight.

"So where's your boyfriend tonight?" Jasper asked, a wicked glint in his eye.

_So I was right._

"No boyfriend." I looked down, my teeth grazing my lip, afraid to meet his gaze. He reached out and tipped my chin up with his hand. I trembled slightly at the contact.

"That's interesting," he said, although his expression suggested he thought it was more than interesting. "I had you down for a girl who'd just had a fight with her guy." I felt a sudden pang for the occasional fights Edward and I had had: upsetting at the time but part of the tapestry of our entire relationship, our love.

Footsteps sounded and there was suddenly another man behind the bar, standing next to Jasper. This guy looked tough: he was well built with a shaved head and tattoos all up his arms. He playfully punched Jasper on the arm.

"Working hard, Jazz?" he teased. The man caught sight of me and his eyes ran over me, frankly appraising me.

"Piss off, Peter. There's fucking nobody in here, and you know it," Jasper replied with a laugh.

"True, true," Peter grinned. "There's always a lull once in a while. It'll get busy again."He then turned to me. "Our Jazz likes to chat up the ladies, so watch out for him. He thinks he's smooth as fuck."

I chuckled nervously, and a blush rose to my cheeks. I knew Jasper was chatting me up – that was pretty damn obvious – but I didn't mind one bit.

Jasper rolled his eyes and said, "Haven't you got a pub to run?" Peter laughed and went through the door to the back.

I turned my eyes to Jasper, and he smiled apologetically. "That's Pete, the landlord..and my boss. He's a good guy: he just likes busting my chops. He and his wife Charlotte own this place jointly, but she's not working tonight."

I couldn't remember the rest of the conversation we had that night if I tried. We talked about my studies and his work at the bar, while the flirting kicked up a notch with every hour that passed and every drink we downed. He had to leave his spot leaning opposite me on the bar to serve customers from time to time, but he came back just as quickly. Jasper Whitlock was distracting the hell out of me. Every time he ran his fingers through his dark waves, or absent-mindedly flicked his tongue at the corner of his lip, it just about killed me. Every compliment he gave me sent a blush from my neck to the roots of my hair, and he seemed to enjoy this. As time went on, the sound of the murmured conversations from the other customers in the bar grew quieter. Eventually, I heard the snap of the door shut and realised it was closing time. We'd actually spoken for over three hours, and after three double whiskies I was feeling pretty damn confident, having managed to shrug off the black thoughts that crept into my brain.

"So, want to come back to my place for a...coffee?" he said, adding a pause for suggestiveness.

"You mean, 'do you want to come back to my place for a fuck'?" I replied, arching my eyebrows.

_That definitely sounded more confident in my head. Damn it – he obviously thinks you're _that _kind of girl now._

Jasper merely grinned at me. "Well, I was going to ask that, but you know, it ain't polite to say that to a lady."

He was teasing me. I giggled nervously and nodded as he slipped through the door at the side. For the first time, he was on the other side of the bar, next to me. His hand darted out and fingered the bare skin in between where my top ended and my jeans began. I felt the jolt of sensation right down to my toes as his fingers trailed over my hip, and my panties dampened further.

"You're soft," he said in a low, dangerous voice full of implications. He drew his hand back, and it was a good thing too, as I felt like I was about to spontaneously combust from the feelings he was creating in me.

"I'm not that sort of girl," I forced myself to say, though all the while I was aching for him to touch me again. His hand on my bare skin had kindled burning fires beneath my skin, puncturing the icy numbness that dominated my existence. I wanted to feel his skin on mine again, to know what it was like not to be numb and frozen inside for once.

"I promise you, I'm good," Jasper whispered, his hot breath tickling my ear, and I shuddered pleasurably, closing my eyes in anticipation.

_What the hell._

"Okay, but don't you have to close this place up first?"

He nodded, and I waited while he wiped a cleaning rag over the tables, collected the glasses and took them in the back to put in the dishwasher, and stacked the chairs on top of the tables. I offered to help, but he waved me away with a laugh. Watching him work was almost mesmerising. He did it all so quickly, and I felt honoured to be the cause of his speed.

"Shall we?" Jasper grabbed his jacket and held the door open for me.

"Don't we need to lock it?" I asked.

"Pete locks up, he lives over the bar – remember?" he replied calmly, and he set off down the street. I followed his lead. I felt more than a little awkward and nervous, considering I hadn't experienced decent sex in over two years, and considering he was a bartender, he'd probably fucked hundreds of girls who were far better in bed than I was. I was going back to a complete stranger's apartment, something I normally would never have dreamed of doing, for the express purpose of fucking him. But I had to. Tonight, I needed someone to chase the shadows away, and Jasper was that someone.

He grasped my hand and pulled me sideways. I looked around, noticing we were in an alley, and he laughed under his breath. "I couldn't do this in front of the punters, now, could I?" The sound of that British idiom in his silky Southern accent made me tremble.

_What the hell was he -?_

I thought no more as his lips found mine for the first time. He tasted delicious, with a hint of whiskey and sweetness. His lips were hard and insistent against mine, and I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to intertwine with mine. He ran his hands down my body and brought them to rest on my ass, cupping it in his hands. I moaned into his mouth, breathing in his heady scent. I brought my hands around to the the front of his pants and hooked my fingers into his waistband, slipping them down beneath his boxers till I felt him hard as rock against my hand. Jasper let out a groan and he squeezed my ass tightly. His lips dragged down over my neck and shoulder, pushing the hoodie off my shoulders to expose the bare skin.

"You know, you're not the sort of girl I usually fuck," he said, and I melted at the sound of his velvet-smooth twang. "Maybe I shouldn't be doing this." I almost laughed at how half-hearted it sounded, considering his blue eyes were aflame with lust for me.

"How do you even know what sort of girl I am?" I replied before he was kissing me again, one hand skimming over one of my breasts to gently pinch my nipple through the fabric. I gasped, glad I hadn't worn a bra today. My nipples were stiff peaks, from the combination of the cold and my arousal. I grasped his ass with one hand, my nails finding purchase against the denim. Jasper growled.

"Fuck, that's enough!" he cried. "Otherwise I'm going to end up fucking you in this alleyway, and it's really damn cold."

I laughed, and pulled my hand from his jeans. Jasper's eyes flashed with desire, and he ran his thumb along my lip, leaving me wanting more. "C'mon, let's go. My place is just round the corner."

I just nodded, unable to speak as he took my hand and dragged me along, turning off onto a side street. We stopped outside a town house containing several apartments. _Nice. _I speculated briefly on how a bartender could afford that, but he was already turning the key in the lock. I knew I wanted Jasper Whitlock more than anything right now, but I was afraid. He was likely experienced enough to make it good for me, but that wasn't what worried me. I was only afraid of what this would mean to me, given that he was the first human being I'd felt a real connection to in a long while.

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**Yes – I know I'm a cockblocking bitch. Good things come to those who wait...the lemons are coming. I will post as often as I can when time allows, but hopefully at least every two weeks.  
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**As ever, chapter teasers/picteases will be on my blog before each posting (p0rn warning!), as well as the playlists for each chapter of the story. http:/glitteratiglue(dot)blogspot(dot)com.**

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	3. In His Hands

**Enjoy – you are cockblocked no more...**

**Reviews are always appreciated, and replied to whenever I can.**

***** Thanks to SunKingFF for her sterling beta work *****

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_**Song: I'm So Sick - Flyleaf  
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**Chapter 3: In His Hands  
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**BPOV**

Jasper pulled me inside and I followed him up the stairs to a second door.

Stepping inside, I was momentarily distracted. We were in a large living room, with stripped pine floors and white walls. Glass shelves full of a dizzying array of books surrounded the room, which admittedly surprised me, as I hadn't thought a bartender would be much of a reader.

It was becoming obvious that there was a lot I didn't know about Jasper Whitlock, but that only made him more desirable in my eyes.

An enormous TV was bracketed to the wall in front of a long white sofa, made of some sort of soft white fabric. A few carefully chosen vases and ornaments in chrome and black were littered around, and there was a shiny chrome and glass coffee table in front of the sofa. Some kind of fancy red rug lay on the floor. It was a real bachelor pad, and I felt almost embarrassed at how juvenile my own room looked in comparison. Jasper's home was the sort of apartment I'd normally be afraid to touch anything in, for fear I'd break something.

Jasper saw my mouth fall open as I gazed around and he grinned widely, running a hand through his dark hair. It flopped back over his face in the most incredibly irresistible way.

_Oh my God._

My brain was turning to jelly, and I had the sensation that it was becoming disconnected from my body.

His gaze turned to me, and his eyes locked on mine, deep blue pools of desire. His expression suggested he was fighting something, but I didn't know what it was. The next second, his arms were around me and his hands were all over me, my body bowing against his. He kissed me, first softly and then harder, tasting my mouth incessantly.

"Is this okay with you, darlin'?" he asked suddenly, the endearment slipping like liquid metal from his tongue, and I realised Jasper was asking if I still wanted to do this. No way was I backing out now, this man was already making me feel more aroused than I had been in the longest time.

"Mmm, yes," I could only say. In response, his hand travelled down and slipped between my legs, rubbing me through the fabric of my jeans, creating a delicious friction between the denim and my panties.

I brought my lips to his roughly, and moved my fingers to twist in his dark hair. He seemed surprised at first, but eagerly returned the kiss, grinding his hips against mine so I could feel the tautness of his erection. He allowed me to push him back against the wall, but I was then forcefully flipped round so my back was now against the wall, his hands braced against it on either side of me.

"I get to do that part," he drawled, nipping at my ear, my neck and along my collarbone. I moaned softly as his mouth trailed down to the edge of my tube top, while he kept me pinned against the wall with his arms. He was totally in control. And fuck, it was hot. He broke his hold on me for a second to tug my strapless top down to my waist, revealing my breasts to him.

"Fuck, Bella, you've got great tits," he rasped. A blush coated my cheeks and I was glad he couldn't see it in the half-light of the darkened room. Jasper's lips moved down and swept over my breast. His mouth enveloped my nipple and I felt wetness pooling between my legs as he gently bit down.

I didn't think I'd been this wet in so long. There was just something about Jasper that tapped into my most primal needs, it was like he somehow understood me despite the fact we were practically strangers.

With unsurprising strength he lifted me and carried me to the sofa. I couldn't help running my hands over his tight biceps, marvelling at his muscles.

_He must work out a lot._

He set me down on the sofa gently. It felt wonderfully soft and comfortable, but my attention was diverted as Jasper's fingers sought the top button of my jeans and slid the zip down. He pulled at the waistband and I lifted my hips to aid him as he tugged them down. Unfortunately, they got stuck on my Converse shoes before he could pull them off. I let out a tense giggle, and Jasper echoed my laughter as he untied the laces of my shoes and pulled them from my feet, one by one.

As the shoes hit the floor with a thud, Edward came to mind again.

_Edward, I miss you._

No. In an instant, my jeans were in a heap on the floor and Jasper's fingers were tracing circles around my swollen bud through the fabric of my panties.

_Thank God I actually put on a pair of non-faded, cute panties this morning._

Jasper certainly seemed to appreciate the red lace boy shorts, although I could barely form coherent thoughts as I registered what his fingers were doing to me.

"I like these," he said in a low, seductive voice. "Although I think I might prefer them off..." His voice trailed away and his fingers hooked into my panties and slid them down my legs, discarding them on the floor. He moved in to kiss me and I gasped at the warmth of his mouth on me. His tongue pushed into my mouth, tasting me hungrily and a moan escaped me. I drew back from his kiss briefly, feeling self-concious at being the only naked.

"You've still got all your clothes on," I protested, but Jasper placed a finger on my lips to silence me.

"Patience," he said with a wink, and his tongue traced my lips, long enough for me to realise what he wanted to do. I shuddered with anticipation as I felt him press kisses to my neck, my collarbone, and lower, his warm lips skimming over every inch of my skin. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading them apart, and I fought the urge to clamp them shut.

A hint of moonlight hit us just then, and Jasper frowned. I followed his gaze to the angry red marks that were still visible on my thighs.

_Fuck, I forgot about that! He probably thinks I'm a nut job._

He exhaled through his teeth, and just for a second, met my eyes. I blushed, although he probably couldn't see it in the half-light. However, he dropped his gaze and resumed his kisses down my body, shifting his hands so they weren't irritating the scars on my thighs. No point in being embarrassed...I was never going to see him again anyway.

He lifted my legs so they rested on his shoulders. One hand held my thigh tightly, while the other ghosted up my inner thigh, coming to rest at my centre. The pad of his thumb pressed down on my clit, and I whimpered. "Fuck!"

"Didn't think a girl like you would be saying words like this," he murmured against my thigh. "Or be bare." His eyes glinted in triumph and I thanked my lucky stars that I'd kept my spa appointment this week. Keeping myself hair-free there was just plain better – the sensation was ten times enhanced than if I hadn't been. It was a habit I'd gotten into when Edward and I were together and I preferred it that way. "It's fucking hot though, Bella."

At the sound of his voice forming those words, I felt myself become slicker. Jasper circled my clit with his thumb before pushing two of his fingers inside me.

_Oh, they feel so good, and..._

I gasped at the feeling. But he hadn't finished yet. His fingers twisted inside of me, hitting that intensely pleasurable spot an inch in as his thumb rubbed my clit slowly...too slowly.

I whimpered, and Jasper grinned at me. He kissed my inner thigh gently as his fingers continued to work at me, and laid his tongue against my slit for a brief moment. I could feel his hot breath on me, and I ached to feel his mouth where I wanted it the most. I jolted as he drew back, teasing me, but his other hand held me fast, rendering me incapable of movement. I was not just incapable of movement at this point, but of speech, thought, everything. All I craved at this moment was Jasper's mouth on me, in addition to what his talented fingers were currently doing to me.

With a look of pure lust, Jasper bent his head and licked down my slit, once. I cried out, but this time he didn't stop. His tongue flicked my clit, replacing his thumb, as his fingers began to move in and out of me even faster. This was definitely so different to my inexperienced one night stands.

"Oh, God..." I cried out, arching my back against the sofa.

"You like that, mmm?" he muttered against me, and I felt his words vibrate against my flesh. I merely moaned in reply, and he laughed before his tongue slid between my lips again, sweeping over my soft wetness. Fisting my hands in the sofa fabric, I gripped tightly as knots coiled in me, tightening as his skilled tongue and fingers continued to manipulate me. Heat was spreading over my body, concentrating in the middle of the tightly coiled knots. I knew I was close, I could feel it...

"Shit, I'm so..." I panted, and Jasper knew what I needed. His fingers pumped in and out of me as his tongue swirled over me and he drew my clit between his lips, sucking it furiously. The heat was bubbling up inside me, shimmering over my skin as I screamed and moaned. He bit down on my clit gently as his long fingers curled inside me, and with that, I broke.

I cried out the loudest I had yet as I came, my cries seguing into incoherent moans as I bucked my hips against his face, shuddering against his mouth as he held me fast. The heat within me rose and fell, and just when I thought I was done, Jasper sucked my clit back into his mouth as his fingers began to move within me again. Within a minute, I was gasping and shaking all over again, my inner walls squeezing his fingers as I came a second time.

He planted a kiss on my inner thigh, resting his head there a moment as he waited for me to catch my breath. I panted hard, still trembling in the wake of my orgasms, amazed by what had just transpired. Jasper had given me the best orgasms I'd had in over two years. I'd forgotten what it was like to cum so hard. Jasper shifted his body up, and I tried to sit up, but he held me against the sofa

His lips pressed to my stomach and moved up my torso, sucking my nipple as he went. When he reached my face he pressed his mouth to mine insistently, his tongue sliding into my mouth as if he couldn't get enough of me. I tasted myself, sweet and salty on his mouth, and broke the kiss, ashamed.

"Don't be embarrassed," Jasper told me, his brilliant blue eyes locking on mine. Whenever he did that I had the sense that my body had attained the consistency of a jellyfish, and I could say nothing. "You should get to see how you taste – delicious."

I grasped his hair and pulled his face back to mine, and our mouths hungrily melded. I didn't care that I was all over his face, and frankly, it turned me on like hell to know that he liked the way I tasted down there. I wanted more. I fingered the hem of his t shirt, and he stretched up his arms to help me pull it off.

I let out an unabashed gasp as I saw his bare chest for the first time, the taut muscles of it standing out. Jasper was beautiful_._

_Un-fucking-believably beautiful._

My hand traced the contours of his right bicep, and I spotted a name carved into his skin with ink. It was small, but noticeable – marked in black ink with a border of twisted green vines, and in the corner, a single white lily.

_Ava. _I couldn't help but wonder what she'd meant to him to earn a place on his body for all eternity.

He saw the direction of my gaze, and frowned. "Girlfriend from a long time ago – you know what they say, never have anyone's name tattooed on your body," he told me with an easy smile. His words seemed practised, almost too practised, but I let it go. "Youthful mistake."

"Oh, I wasn't looking," I muttered, blushing furiously and glad he couldn't see it in the dark. "Doesn't matter to me."

Wasting no time, he stood up. As he unbuckled his belt and unfastened the zip of his jeans, I forgot about my previous speculation over the origins of his tatt. He pulled down his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop, and his hardness sprang out.

"Wow," fell from my lips before I could stop it, my eyes running over his considerable length. Jasper's mouth twisted into the most devastatingly come-hither smile.

_Shit, Bella, what the hell are you saying? He probably thinks you're the biggest dork ever right now_...

I stood, my legs unsteady from my orgasm, and reached down to stroke him. He was incredibly hard in my hand. Reaching down to cover my hand, he gently pushed it away.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked tentatively, my eyes narrowing. Jasper smiled widely.

"Quite the opposite," He laughed. "I'm not gonna last if you keep that up, gorgeous." I literally melted at his smooth compliment, and desire burned through me like an inferno.

He flipped his wallet open, pulling out the foil-wrapped packet, and I understood. I expected Jasper to lead us towards the bedroom, but apparently he had other ideas.

Taking my hand, he led me over the opposite side of the room, back to the wall. I pulled his face towards me, kissing him savagely as I knotted my fingers in his hair. I sucked his bottom lip between my teeth and bit down gently, pleased at the strangled gasp he let out at this. His erection pressed into my stomach insistently, and I couldn't wait to feel it inside me. His fingers probed my wetness, spreading my lips apart and I moaned again as his fingers delved inside me.

"You're ready for me, mm?" he murmured in my ear, nipping at the lobe with his teeth.

I could only nod, my breaths coming quick and fast as I waited for him. I heard the tearing of foil and the snap of rubber as he slid the condom on. My hands were lifted and splayed out flat against the wall as he picked me up, pressing my back firmly to the wall so I was braced against it. I curled one leg around his waist, and he shifted his hips so he was holding me fast. I added the other leg, and felt his cock pressing against my soaking wet centre.

_One movement. That was all it would take..._

Jasper's eyes locked on mine. "You're fucking beautiful, Bella Swan."

I blinked helplessly, pinned against the wall with my legs wrapped round his waist, unable to even form a sentence while Jasper's Whitlock's piercing eyes were boring into mine, and his cock was nudging at my entrance.

His hand reached down between our bodies and guided himself to my opening. Shifting slightly, I dropped my body, and suddenly the whole length of him impaled me. His lips were on mine almost immediately, and we gasped into each other's mouths at the intensity of the feeling. This felt unbelievably fucking good. Far better than it had with those other boys who'd barely been able to make me wet, and then shoved themselves inside me with no regard for my own pleasure.

Jasper's lips pressed to the skin of my neck and collarbone as he tipped his hips upwards, thrusting into me. His thrusts were quick and deep, and each time he sunk into me, my hips were at the perfect angle for the base of his cock to graze my swollen clit.

"Oh, shit," I cried out, for I couldn't remember when I'd last felt this good. My body was spread out wide against the wall as I ground my hips into his, our bodies making a wet sound as they met. One of his hands skimmed over my breasts, teasing the nipples to sharp points as his other hand gripped my thigh for leverage, pressing me harder into the wall.

My God. Jasper Whitlock was fucking me like I'd never imagined. It was amazing.

I sighed a guttural moan into his neck as his hips slammed into me repeatedly, allowing me no respite from the intense pleasure that was building up inside me again. My third orgasm of the night was on its way...

My fingernails dug into his back, clawing hard enough to hurt, but Jasper didn't seem to mind. He grunted, and kissed me again as he withdrew almost to the point of sliding out. His tongue slipped between my lips with urgency as he pushed himself back inside me, and I moaned into his warm mouth.

I dug my heels into his ass, insinuating for him to fuck me harder. He responded by slamming into my deeper than ever, and the added friction on my clit felt delicious. The inferno was coiling inside me, a milieu of sensations tugging at me from a million different places in my body. The new, deeper way he fucked me stroked places I'd forgotten even existed, drawing my pleasure out exponentially.

As far as I was concerned, this could go on forever – it just felt that good. A hand snaked round to my hip, steadying itself against my skin. My eyelids fluttered open to see Jasper's lusty gaze locked on me. I pressed a kiss to his neck, and then drew back, suddenly aware of how vulnerable I'd made myself. There was no time to dwell on it, however, as his lips violently crushed against mine in the next second. Our combined heavy breathing into each other's mouths as our hips ground together only increased the sensations.

"Close?" he muttered hoarsely, in a voice low and thick with sex.

"Yeah," I breathed, shifting myself over him so his cock rubbed my clit with each thrust he gave. He drew his other hand down the side of my body, resting it by my hip so both hands were holding my legs up. My feet pressed into his ass cheeks, urging him on as my hands rested on his shoulders. Deeper, harder, faster, _more..._

My head lurched forward and I bit into the soft flesh of his neck, moaning and whimpering incessantly. He groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, pressing his lips to my hair as we moved together. His strong hands tightened around my hips, and I cried out at the feeling of being so utterly manipulated, so needed. I met his eyes for a brief moment, and let myself believe that he needed me too, the fire blazing in his eyes as he moved in and out of me.

I was wound tight as a spring, the cords in my neck standing out as the heat coiled, pulling all the tension to the centre of me, where it was just begging to be released. Our bodies were slick and sweaty as we fucked, our movements become more desperate and needy as the seconds went on.

My legs tightened around him, holding him to me with all my strength, which admittedly was pretty damn pathetic.

"Jasper, oh fuck...ahh!" I screamed as my orgasm hit me. White heat melted my skin, bursting behind my eyes as I bucked and moaned against him, shaking with the force of my climax. My walls squeezed him tightly and he pushed into me harder as I rode out my orgasm. His body went rigid and I felt him pulse inside me, spewing a string of profanities in my ear as he came.

Jasper's hold on my hips slackened and I slid down the wall, shakily finding my feet again. We both collapsed on the soft, thick carpet.

I closed my eyes, still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm I'd just experienced. I heard a familiar clicking sound, and my eyes snapped open to see Jasper lighting a cigarette.

_He's a smoker?_

As if there weren't already a myriad of attractive qualities about him. As he took the first drag and exhaled, I sighed as the scent of the smoke hung in the air between us.

_Fuck, I want a cig._

He noted my expression and held out the cig, offering it to me. "Have the rest, I'll light another. Didn't think you smoked." He smirked.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," I said, finally finding my voice again. I took a deep drag of the cigarette, and exhaled, relaxing as I felt the nicotine work its way into my system. "That was really – by the way, wow," I said, fumbling for the right words.

It felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. Earlier on, I'd been in my room wallowing in self-loathing and guilt, and now, here I was, lying on a carpet sharing a post-coital cigarette with a total Sex God.

"It was more than wow," Jasper said, his gaze intense as he lit a second cig, sliding it between his lips in a way that melted me to the core. I should have been ashamed that I was naked in front of a total stranger, but the way he looked at me was something more than lust. A second later, he blinked and his face had closed up. I couldn't be sure that his look had even been real – perhaps it was merely my over-active imagination.

Something had infinitesimally changed in the atmosphere. I took another pull of my cigarette, my hands shaking as he finished his and stubbed it out in an ashtray on the shelf of a bookcase.

"Do you want to stay on the couch, or I can call you a cab?" he asked suddenly, getting up. I felt suddenly vulnerable and got to my feet, steadying myself on the bookcase as I straightened up. The tone of his voice was friendly enough, but it felt like he was putting the blinders on, shutting down emotionally. I discarded my cigarette and stubbed it out hastily in the same ashtray.

_It's a one-night stand, Bella, what do you expect?_

It bothered me more than it should, and I didn't know why that was. Or why I was now thinking about what the fuck that tattoo of his was really about. I would have loved nothing more than to get out of here immediately but I didn't really fancy wandering the streets alone and in spite of myself, I yawned, utter exhaustion washing over me. I'd had a crappy sleep last night, as usual, and I was really feeling it now.

"Couch, I think?" he said, his teeth biting down on his lip in an agitated way. "I'll get you a blanket."

While he was out of the room, I took the opportunity to pull my panties and my top back on. He came back and handed me the blanket.

"Okay, well, goodnight," he said awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. I took the soft material from him, nearly jumping out of my skin as his warm hand brushed against mine for an instant. The blanket was thick wool, just the thing for a cold night like this. I knew Jasper had felt the sizzle when our hands connected, as he stifled a gasp and he immediately buried his hands in his pockets. Turning on his heel, he headed out a door into the hall, presumably towards his bedroom.

"Night," I called after him, nonplussed. What the hell had just happened? This guy, whoever he was, had some serious issues. That was more than just the standard post-fuck awkwardness that came with a one-night stand. I flopped down on the couch and settled into it, pulling the blanket over me. It was unbelievably comfortable. I could _live_ on this couch. I rested my head on a cushion and as I drifted closer to sleep, disconnected thoughts assaulted my brain.

I couldn't fathom what that primal experience had drawn out of me, but something felt different. Jasper Whitlock was different. Every kiss, touch and lick had awoken desires I barely knew I had. At the same time, it had also dredged my pain from deep below the surface, making it real now. I didn't know what this guy's story was, and wasn't sure I'd ever know. His reaction after wasn't what had really freaked me out. The frozen numbness that usually surrounded my heart was no longer there, and it scared the hell out of me.

I knew I couldn't see him again.

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**Not so cockblocking any more...**


	4. The Ghosts In The Machine

**Hi to my lovely readers – I'm sorry I didn't post on Monday a couple of weeks ago as usual, but there were a few reasons for this. RL has been completely kicking my ass. Firstly, it's my final semester of university and I have an assload of work including a thesis due in at the end of the month. Another reason is that I wrote this chapter and didn't like the first draft of it so I reworked it all. I take my writing quality seriously and would rather take longer and post something better than just updating quickly with a crappy, rushed chapter. I also had gastric flu last weekend, ugh, which further delayed the schedule. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this first look into the head of Mr Whitlock...**

**Also can I just say - WOW! The traffic this story has been getting is great. Thankyou to those who've reviewed, alerted and favourited - it's amazing, and every review I read sends a little thrill down my spine. I always reply whenever I can. :)  
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****WARNING - Brief disturbing themes in this chapter, but NO rape or cutting (apart from obviously, mention of Bella's self-harm habit). ****

***** Thankyou to the wonderful SunKing for going over this angst-fest with a fine-tooth comb and making me feel better about it when I wasn't sure I could do it. And thanks to SydneyTwiMum, the cutest pre-reader ever, whose thoughts on the plot are massively appreciated by me. *****

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_**Song: Voices of Violence - Billy Talent**_

**Chapter 4: The Ghosts In The Machine  
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**JasperPOV**

I rolled over in bed and squinted irritably at the unwelcome onslaught of sunlight that was filtering through the blinds that I'd carelessly left open the day before. Mercifully, I didn't feel hung over – I could always hold my liquor. I didn't usually make a habit of drinking with my customers, but on slow nights, Pete, Charlotte and I would often have a few to pass the time.

Giving in, I sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I had half a mind to close those blinds and get right back into bed, but then I remembered. _Bella Swan._

I realised that the girl I'd brought home the night before might well still be there. That was going to be five kinds of awkward, I was sure. I wasn't usually in the habit of letting the girls I brought home stay the night. With morning came all these expectations that I was unable to meet.

_No, we're not getting together again; no, you are not staying for breakfast; and no, we are not exchanging phone numbers._

In fact, I couldn't remember the last time it had happened. However, something about this chick was different. The moment she walked into my bar, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was devastatingly pretty, the kind of pretty that made my heart catch in my chest a little. She had long shoulder-length dark hair, and she pulled her hoodie off as soon as she got in the door, revealing one of those tiny little tube tops that gave me a tantalising glimpse of her creamy shoulders and her soft curves. _Those same soft curves I had wrapped around me last night.._.Shit. I was digressing.

What really made me decide I had to talk to the girl, however, was the moment I saw her façade slip and realised she wasn't nearly as cool as she making herself out to be. And that was just ridiculously adorable. A few wolf-whistles from other customers sent her blushing from her cleavage to the roots of her hair. It looked great on her, and when I saw her dip her head and sweep the long curtain of hair over her shoulders to shield her bare skin, I forgot what the hell I was supposed to be doing, and had to ask the fat-ass builder I was serving what he wanted again.

I couldn't help but keep my eyes fixed on her, like she was a magnet or something. After a moment, I realised somebody might notice if I was leering at the new arrival, and unwillingly dropped my gaze back to the pint I was pulling. My skin prickled slightly. I had no fucking idea how, but I knew she was looking at me. Casually, I raised my eyes to meet hers and she visibly jolted. Her eyes were a warm, soft brown, and in that second, I was undone. To my own amusement, my dick immediately resembled steel, straining against the confines of my pants as I appraised her. She was humming the Nine Inch Nails song that was playing over the speakers. That kind of killed me - that this blushing, probably innocent girl was humming along to what was basically a very explicit and overtly sexual song. I'd be lying if I said my dick hadn't twitched when I saw her lips form the words 'penetrate'.

_God, she was hot. No, not just hot: beautiful. _And not in the way most of the girls who threw themselves at me were. Predictably, I suppose, for a bartender, I usually took home cheap, silicone-enhanced blondes who couldn't string together a complete sentence. That usually worked for me as I didn't really want to carry on a conversation. With those girls, however, I was always stringent about using protection and going to the clinic for the occasional test, as I had no idea what the hell they might have. I didn't want them staying for long after the sex was over, of course. Those women, no matter who they were, woke up my demons, even as they made me forget while we fucked, and I'd usually jolt awake after my latest conquest with the usual nightmare ringing in my ears. That thought suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks, and I realised I'd slept pretty soundly last night. It seemed ironic that this far-from-normal girl, who was obviously haunted by her own demons, had inexplicably managed to literally put mine to sleep.

Something about Bella, though, I don't know...I guess that night I just felt like actually having a real conversation with somebody for once. Of course, I talked to people all the time, as it was the nature of the job. I knew that, like it or not, I was charismatic and pretty good at getting people to open up to me. I'd heard it all from drunks. When people were under the influence of alcohol all of their ugliness came out - all the things they wouldn't usually think or say. That was something I liked about bartending, I guess - actually getting to hear something real about how people really lived. It was very different from the job I'd trained in; the one that had brought me to the UK in the first place.

That was something I never thought about if I could help it. It's called history for a reason, and I wanted to leave it behind me where it belonged. In an effort to escape that past, I found myself tending bar. There was nothing _complicated_ about working behind a bar. Admittedly, it didn't pay well, but I owned my apartment outright and had a substantial chunk of savings in the bank, so I was fine. Most people I knew thought I was some kind of trust-fund kid – living off the generosity of Mommy and Daddy while I was slumming it as a bartender – but I didn't really give a shit what anyone thought. I didn't have a need to get close to anyone in my job. I could be everybody's friend, while still remaining unavailable, alone - and that was the only way I managed to keep up my image. _Jazz – everyone's friend, a hit with the ladies, a good-time guy who's phased by nothing_. That was me most of the time, although in private, it was a little different.

Amazingly enough, however, _Bella _had made me want to get close to her, and for more than just sex. That was more than anyone had made me feel in a long time. I wasn't usually as bothered about foreplay with one night stands, but something about Bella really made me want her to feel as good as she possibly could. I wanted her shaking with release before I even entered her, and to know that it was me who made her feel that way. It wasn't that I didn't love going down on women - I prided myself with having considerable skill in that area. It was just a pretty intimate thing to do with someone I hardly knew, that was all, and I didn't tend to do it with one-night stands. From her reaction to it, I'd probably given her the best head of her life.

_And my God, she tastes amazing. _I felt my dick harden into what was unmistakeably morning wood as I remembered the way she tasted on my tongue. Perhaps another thing that had made me so concerned for her pleasure was seeing those marks on her thighs. I was no idiot: I knew she'd done that to herself, and for some reason, it really got to me that this beautiful, interesting girl would hurt herself. I wanted to make her feel good when she no doubt spent a lot of time feeling like total crap.

I figured that the depression spawning the self-harm was not just an imbalance. Her hurt was deep, and had a specific cause. I saw the look in her eyes as they met mine; when I finally saw the scars she obviously took great care to hide from the world. Bella's eyes held more than shame, they were hollow. The fact that I'd noticed that in an instant probably spoke volumes about my own mental state. I'd always been pretty good at sensing the emotions of others around me, but this was more than just some phase she was going through. I somehow realised that something really fucking awful had happened to her. I probably wouldn't ever know what it was, but right then, I wanted to know, and - despite the fact that I'd just met her - I wanted to take her pain away. It had made me wonder what had happened to her, and how it compared to anything I'd experienced.

My first impression of Bella was that she was innocent, maybe even a virgin - hence why I'd been hesitant to bring her home with me, but I was obviously wrong. She was confident enough to know what she wanted, and she obviously had experience with sex, because she wasn't shy about it. My guess was that she'd had at least one long-term boyfriend before. Maybe one she was still getting over. What a fucking tool he must be to have let a girl like her go. Her past was probably a little more complicated than that, and maybe I was misjudging things. I shook my head, trying to ignore the echoing thoughts of my own past, even as it threatened to invade my present. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts return to infinitely more pleasant thoughts of the previous night...

_...Her open, willing body was pinned against the wall with my weight, and she was making these fuckhot porn-actress moans as I slammed in and out of her. I couldn't take my eyes off her face; its expression was beautifully contorted with the pleasure I was giving her. She dropped her eyes to meet mine, and without warning, she pressed a kiss to my neck. It was an unbelievably intimate thing for a stranger to do, especially in the middle of such a frenzied fuck fest, but it felt great for some reason. This stupid noise halfway between a grunt and a moan came from my mouth and I knew I had to taste her lips again. Her face froze for a second, and I registered its nervousness as she realised that she'd made herself vulnerable._

_Letting her know I liked what she'd done, I roughly crashed my mouth down on hers, kissing her roughly yet tenderly. I panted into her mouth; my breaths coming quick and fast with hers as I deepened my thrusts. Shit, this was too good, I wasn't going to last much longer, she was so incredibly tight and responsive to every move I made. However, I wanted her to enjoy herself, so I slowed my movements, even though my dick was screaming to pound into her harder. Please let her be fucking close, I prayed silently._

_I muttered "Close?" and it came out in that ridiculous hoarse sex voice that people inexplicably seemed to gain while fucking. After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, she murmured "Yeah," and I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing I could continue..._

Bella had undone me with every move she made and surprised me at every turn. Everything about the whole experience was vastly different from my usual conquests. I had to go and see if she was still in my house, however, and then I could draw my own conclusions from there. Pulling an old t-shirt on, I headed silently out into the hall. I had the mad idea suddenly of inviting Bella out for breakfast and breaking a ton of my own rules in the process. I knew I couldn't give someone a relationship; I was nowhere near ready for that. Fucking with this vulnerable girl's mind like that would be bad. And yet, I wanted to be with her the morning after, not cast her aside as I usually did. _That has to mean something, _I mused, running a hand through my hair absently. My fingers got stuck in it and I made a mental note to run a comb through my hair as soon as possible, tugging my hand from my hair painfully. I twisted the doorknob and opened it.

The sight that greeted me wasn't what I'd expected. She was gone. The blanket was neatly folded on the sofa: the only evidence of the night was the pair of cigarettes in the ashtray and a faint floral scent that I detected as I drew closer to the sofa where she had slept. It smelled just like Bella – whatever perfume she wore, I loved it. Before I could stop myself, I'd lifted the blanket to my nose and inhaled deeply, breathing in her amazing smell. Barely, a second later, I realised what I was doing and threw the blanket down.

_Jazz, get a grip. You slept with a hot girl last night. She was a great fuck – nothing more. Stop trying to think it's more than that. You know that never ends well._

I felt a twinge of guilt over my cold behaviour towards Bella as soon as the sex was over. I could see the hurt in her eyes and for whatever reason, it really made me feel bad. Normally, I wasn't too bothered. The affections of most of the women I slept with were fickle, and I knew they'd find some other guy straight away. She didn't seem like that, however – she wasn't a whore, I knew that much. At least I'd let her stay on the couch, maybe subconsciously hoping she'd be there in the morning so I could explain myself. I knew I'd been a colossal jerk, but at the time I'd reasoned to myself that I was just protecting her. I hadn't wanted to give her a false impression of what I was capable of.

I'd tried to be with one or two women three years ago when I'd first arrived in London. I liked them, of course, but as the relationship got deeper, the voice in my head started screaming at me to get the hell out of it before they found out whom I really was. I could never tell them what I'd done – what had made me want to put an ocean between my past and me. When I'd started working at the bar a year after that, Charlotte had tried to set me up with various girlfriends of hers at first. That stopped, however, when she realised I just wasn't a relationship guy, and she'd often jokingly bemoan my single status, but I knew better than to take her seriously.

I took a cigarette from the pack on the shelf and lit up my first one of the day, smoking it quickly. For the most part, I liked living in the UK. I'd compartmentalised my life to an extent, but it was a life I'd built myself, and most of the time, it worked for me. My mornings and afternoons were spent doing whatever the heck I liked, and then I worked at the bar five nights a week. I stubbed out the cigarette and headed to the bathroom to take a piss. Stretching, I could feel the slight soreness in my arms from holding Bella up against the wall last night. I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror – my unkempt hair, my bruised lips. Pete was definitely going to pump me for details later and I didn't really want to give them to him like I usually did. I traced the faint, white scars that dotted my body, wondering why Bella hadn't mentioned those when she was so fixated on my tat. Perhaps that was the very reason she hadn't noticed.

_Who am I to judge her scars? I certainly have my own._

Hers probably didn't come from her own father, though. _That fucking bastard. _He was a drunk, and he'd left when I was eight, but that was long enough for him to leave his mark, quite literally. Growing up in Macon, Georgia, some of the old Southern ways still persisted, and it was always drilled into me that ladies should be treated with deference. I couldn't reconcile that knowledge with the fact that most nights, my father would roll in from the bar and use my mother as a punching bag. Sitting at the top of the stairs hearing her scream as I punched my fist into my hand while I imagined it was his face became a routine for me. My Mom just took it. I think she was far too dazed from years of abuse to even realise how bad it was, and despite everything, she still fucking loved him and believed he was a nice guy deep down.

So, one night when I ventured further down the stairs and saw him smash Mom's face against the wall, so that blood was trickling down her cheek, something inside my eight-year-old self snapped. I flew at him, pummelling anywhere I could reach on his body with my small fists. My strength was futile, of course, as he soon hauled me off him. While my mother laid unconscious, he stripped me naked and burned nearly every inch of my body with cigarettes, ignoring my desperate screams for him to stop. The scars were very faint and couldn't be seen easily, but under the fluorescent light of my bathroom, the marks my father had left on me were clear. The same night the psychotic bastard cleared off, to God knows where. I tended to my Mom's wounds, but I think after that night she felt she had nothing to live for. She turned to alcohol, and within three years had drunk herself into an early grave, leaving me with nothing at the age of eleven.

After that, I'd lived with my aunt Maria, my mother's sister. They hadn't spoken for years over disagreements about my father, but she took me in, no questions, and moved me to her house in Atlanta, treating me like her own son. When I was sixteen, I got word that my father had died in an automobile accident and was viciously glad to hear it. Maria had practically raised me. She'd been great, remaining patient during my hell-raising early teen years, and proud when I'd given up my wayward ways and begun to apply myself academically. She was a great woman, and I made sure to call her occasionally. Her concern about me living over here on my own always made me feel guilty, though, and so I hadn't spoken to her in a while.

Stepping into the shower, I flipped the switch and sighed as I felt the warm water cascade over me, soothing my aching muscles. It was definitely weird as fuck, being so fascinated by this girl. Unsurprisingly, Bella drifted back into my thoughts and I whacked off to the image of her soft breasts pressed against me, the moans she made as I thrust into her, the way her lips felt on mine. I was completely enthralled, and it freaked me out. I threw on a hoodie, jogging pants and sneakers and left the apartment, thinking I'd go for a run in the park to take my mind off things. Running was pretty much my form of therapy – without it I probably would have gone mad long ago. It was a cold morning, but I warmed up quickly as I pounded the pavement. I circuited the boating lake a few times, trying to exhaust myself enough that I wouldn't start thinking about all the things I'd sworn to forget. It had been a decent few days, and I'd thought about it little.

_I woke from my nap, realising I'd slept for much longer than I'd planned. The darkening sky was clearly visible through the French doors that led to the garden. I sat up and stretched, rubbing my eyes._

"_Ava?" I called, expecting to hear her voice any second. There was no way she wasn't here. I called her name again, but there was no sound. _Weird. _A cold sense of dread trickled down my spine, even though there was no reason to be worried. Was there?_

_Everything can change in a second._

_CPR. Thirty chest compressions, followed by two rescue breaths."Breathe," I whispered, half to myself, my voice cracking as the greatest terror I'd ever felt in my life manifested itself vocally. I continued to massage her heart, trying to get her to come back._

_Sirens blared just outside the house, and the EMTs came rushing in. They literally had to pry me off of her to do their work, because I wouldn't stop. I couldn't. This was my fault, and I had to save her. She couldn't die because of me._

I shuddered, leaning against the park bandstand, trying to ignore my shaking hands. Bile was threatening to rise up in my throat, and I had to concentrate hard to get it to return to my stomach. Methodically, I carried out my stretches and went on with my run, ignoring the jangled thoughts in my mind. I returned home and found a voicemail message from Esme. In a gently chastising tone she told me how she'd hadn't seen me in a while, and invited me to her and Carlisle's house for dinner. Esme Platt was one of the few people I would actually call a friend. She was so different from me – a straight-laced librarian from the Midwest who'd come to London to study and never wanted to leave. She'd stayed and got a job where she was surrounded by her beloved books all the time. Not that she was boring – she was anything but. And she was one of the most insightful people I'd ever met. I'd met her, oddly enough, at an Ian McEwan book reading. I was a pretty big fan of his work, and I'd found myself seated next to this beautiful girl with one of the kindest faces I'd ever seen. It wasn't a romantic thing, but I knew instantly that we'd be friends. She just seemed like an utterly good person from the moment she smiled at me. We chatted after we'd stood in the queue together get our copies of _On Chesil Beach_ signed, and she impulsively invited me to come and have a drink with her and her boyfriend. Carlisle Cullen, the doctor-in-training she was engaged to marry, was really cool, and we got on just as well these days.

Esme knew more about me than anyone else did – on account of the time that I'd sunk nearly a whole bottle of whisky and poured my heart out to her. We were the same age, so I don't know how she pulled it off, but I saw her as kind of a motherly figure; she was so caring and kind to all those around her. She never mentioned it again; though I saw the concerned way she glanced at me sometimes when she wasn't looking. I had no idea if she'd told Carlisle, but I suspected not. Esme was that type of person – compassionate beyond sanity – so I think she assumed it was my secret to tell. Come to think of it, she worked in the library at Queen Mary, the same university Bella went to. I forced myself to expel that thought from my mind, and went on with my day. I took a post-run shower, read, watched a soccer game on TV, and then realised that it was getting near to the time my shift began and I still hadn't called Esme back. Taking a deep breath, I dialled the familiar number.

"Hello?" a soft, gentle voice answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Esme," I said, fully aware that she had every right to rag on me about not having seen her and Carlisle in ages.

"Oh, Jasper!" She laughed, a delicate, tinkling sound. When she spoke again, her voice was hard. "I'd almost forgotten what you sounded like. You haven't bothered returning my calls in a while."

I sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm a crappy friend. I've just been, you know..." Too late, I realised she was just teasing when I heard her laugh again at the other end of the line.

"That's fine, don't apologise! We're always glad to hear from you. So, how does dinner on Thursday next week sound? Eight o'clock? I might invite a couple of other people over, too, if that's alright?"

_Oh great_. I inwardly groaned. Having to make conversation with strangers in a dinner party setting could be so tedious. "That would be great." I replied. "How's Carlisle doing?" I asked, relishing in the normality of this conversation after the day I'd had.

"Busy, but happy. He's starting a new rotation next week – dermatology. I'm not sure that's really his thing. He was really enjoying paediatrics. I think he'll end up specialising in that. You know how he loves kids."

There was the barest hint of a secret sadness in her voice as she mentioned kids, and then remembered that I knew something about Esme's past, too. Seven years ago, when she was eighteen, a routine surgical procedure had left her unable to have children, and it caused her great pain behind that happy smile. I knew that Carlisle didn't mind at all, and was happy to adopt, but she still needed time to think.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice coming out a bit tenser than I'd hoped. "Okay, look, I've really got to get to work soon, but I'll see you next week?"

"Sure, Jazz," she said cheerfully. "You're okay, right?" she added.

"I'm fine," I reassured her, feeling annoyed at myself for making her worry. There was a pause as she considered my answer. That woman was way too perceptive for her own good. She definitely knew something was up with me, but also knew I didn't want to discuss it.

"Great. We'll see you then." I hung up the phone and sighed. Everyone had their secrets, that was for sure. It was so tiring sometimes, to keep all of mine inside, but I couldn't see any other way. I locked up then headed to work, my steps feeling heavy. The morning's euphoria had well and truly dissipated, leaving an empty, gnawing void. I really wanted to see Bella again. I wanted to know what it was I'd felt. At the same time I felt open, exposed, like she could pry my secrets from the deepest recesses of my soul with one glance. I didn't know if I was ready to see anyone. But I wanted to spend more time with this amazing girl, I knew that much. My head was a maelstrom of emotions, threatening to drag me down into their blackness.

_Jazz – you're a mess._

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**I hope you all enjoyed and please let me know what you thought of the first JasperPOV! :) I'm already working on chapter 5 so hopefully you shouldn't have to wait as long for the next one, but please be patient with me right now as I'm extremely busy. As ever, check my blog for banners and teasers - the link's on my profile. Thanks again for all the reviews, faves and alerts.  
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**Please indulge me, this is a just a bit of pimpage:**

**Can I just take a moment to say, my good friend and beta, Jennifer McBay Barry (SunKing) has published her first novel recently - The Kingdom. It's a brilliant fantasy adventure that combines romance, intrigue, Arthurian legend, mythology and best of all: the hauntingly lovely setting of Ireland.**

**Blurb from Amazon: _"Rioghan has been trapped here on Earth since the fall of Lucifer. He spends his days toying with the emotions of the lowly humans while his father, the High King, wishes for him to grow up and accept his royal obligations. When Rioghan meets Lily, the daughter of a famous opera singer, she is nothing but a shiny new toy to him. Lily has a very firm mind of her own, however, and can't be bothered by one more person professing undying love for her when they haven't even taken the time to get to know her. The harder she resists Rioghan, the faster he falls, until he realizes that she has become his reason to be."_**

**Just wanted to give her a little shout-out - you can buy the book on Amazon. She's a wonderful writer and I'd also encourage you to check out her fanfiction under SunKing.**

**** ALSO - CALLING ALL ORIGINAL FICTION WRITERS! Argus Books and The Kingdom are hosting an original fiction contest: 'The Key To The Kingdom'. The winner has the chance to have their short story published - check out the details here: http:/kingdomcontest(dot)wordpress(dot)com/ ****

**Apologies for the soliciting, but newly published authors rely on word of mouth - and trust me, it's an awesome book. The characters and plot will suck you in. Go buy! Thanks for reading xxx  
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	5. Control

**Hi, everyone! Apologies for not having updated for a while – I had a note on my profile explaining why. I had to take an extended break from my writing to work on my thesis – which is all finished and handed in now, so yay! Updates should come quicker now, although I still have to study for exams, so please be patient. I love this story and the characters and I know exactly where it's going, so I shall update whenever I can. I'd just like to say that I have been floored by all the attention my little story's been getting! Many thanks go to Twific Promotions, Jasper's Naughty Girls, angela4148 and others for pimping me out – and I'd like to give very warm welcome to all the new readers I've gained.**

***** Heartfelt thanks to SydneyTwiMum for her valuable pre-reading advice and being an awesome test audience, to my beta, SunKing for her careful eye and the fixing of my numerous tense errors, and to Alverdine, my fic pal, for her wit, intelligence, and willingness to be my sounding board. *****

**And of course, thanks most of all to my readers – all those who've favourited, alerted and especially those who've reviewed! I am speechless, and I heart you all hard.**

*** Warning - Some disturbing themes in this chapter, brief mention of suicide. *  
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_Song: Pictures Of You - The Cure_  
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**Chapter 5: Control**

**BPOV**

I stepped out of the shower and rubbed the towel over my slick body to dry myself, wincing a little as I accidentally brushed one of the scars on my thighs with the rough cloth. Heading back to my room, I closed the door and leaned back against the heavy wood, breathing heavily. I looked at the clock. It was 7 am, and about an hour since I'd left Jasper's place. He really didn't live far from me at all - it had taken me about fifteen minutes to walk back. I couldn't believe I'd let myself stay over at his place the night before, but I was just bone tired and might have passed out otherwise. It must have looked freaking pathetic, like I was staying because I was hoping he'd invite me out for pancakes the next morning. I snorted.

_Please._

I knew why I'd gone back to his place: for one reason and one reason only. I wanted sex. I wanted someone to make me forget. He was different from the usual college boys who'd clumsily chat me up in the union bar, a lot more sure of himself.

_And my God, the sex was....mind-blowing. _There was really no other way to describe it. I didn't think I'd come so hard since well...a long, long time ago. I felt pretty released, in that sense, I guess, but there was something else gnawing at me. I felt really screwed up. Trying to ignore it, I towelled my hair vigourously and then spent a long time teasing out the knots with a comb. My scars looked a little red, so I rubbed some antiseptic cream on them. That brought another wave of shame

_He_ saw my scars. He saw them. Nobody, ever, ever, ever sees them. How the hell did I think he wouldn't notice? The truth was, intoxicated by the whiskey and his intriguing company, I'd let my mind overrule my common sense and completely forgotten about what I did to myself. When he saw them, I'd expected him to say we couldn't continue, that I was 'vulnerable' or some shit like that to make himself feel better about rejecting this freak of a girl. I was sure as hell feeling vulnerable right then, of course. His only reply was to exhale sharply and then bury his face between my thighs where his talented mouth proceeded to make me come not once, but twice.

_His hot, soft, lips dragging over every part of my body..._now that was amazing. I was feeling distinctly sore after the previous night, considering how hard he'd fucked me. Even though that was just what I'd needed last night. I rifled through my wardrobe, trying to find something decent to wear. _Plaid, plaid, plaid._ I'd purged a lot of the plaid from my wardrobe of late – it was big in the Pacific Northwest, not so much in London where I ran the risk of looking like a small-town hick. The morning felt a little warmer, like it might be getting closer to spring at last, so I picked out a cute skirt and top, inspired to wear something smarter than my usual grungy student attire. I went to the kitchen to look for some breakfast, feeling a little aimless. I'd actually had the best night's sleep I'd had in a long time, curled up on Jasper's squishy white couch. Searching my sparse food cupboard, I found a sachet of raspberry Oat-So-Simple languishing at the back, poured some milk over and set the microwave for two minutes. I started to brew coffee.

I froze as I heard sudden footsteps on the stairs. _Please let it be Angela, _I prayed silently. Eric was always awkward as hell around me and barely said a word. Jessica was a whole other story. On a normal day, she'd make thinly veiled bitchy comments whilst talking about herself, or worse, if she was in a good mood, she'd try and engage me in faux-friendly unpleasant gossip about others, which I always declined to participate in. It wasn't that I was the nicest person in the whole world about others, I just didn't give a shit about any of Jessica's little day-to-day dramas. Mike was often out at soccer practice, thankfully, and otherwise he'd usually ignore me, or sometimes the creepy bastard would hit on me.

"_She's one fucked up girl, but she's a hot piece of ass, know what I'm sayin'?"_ I'd once heard him say to one of his asshole jock friends. Needless to say, that hadn't enamoured me to him any further, and I made sure to lock my bedroom door securely at night in case he 'accidentally-on-purpose' stumbled in after a drunken night with his team mates. I breathed a sigh of relief as Angela rounded the corner of the banister and padded into the kitchen with a yawn, wearing her pink robe and bunny slippers.

"Bella!" She smiled. "What on earth are you doing up so early?" She was right: it was unusual for me. Normally, I'd wake up mid-morning after sleeping fitfully post-nightmare.

"I could say the same of you," I replied with a grin, trying to deflect the question. "Coffee?" She nodded and I offered her the pot. I took the hot raspberry oatmeal out of the microwave and ran a spoon through the rivulets of milk to separate it a little.

Angela made a face. "Paper to finish." She sighed heavily. "It's not due till 2pm and I completed it yesterday, but I just want to have enough time to tweak it and make sure it's perfect before I hand it in." I laughed. Maybe that was one of the reasons why Angela and I got on well. We were both perfectionists who were anal about our academic work to the point of being obsessive. I watched Angela absent-mindedly as she rifled through her cupboard and pulled out a box of Lucky Charms.

"Oooh, forgot I had these," she exclaimed, reaching in and taking a handful. "Mom sent them to me the other week."

She offered me the box and I stirred a few into the oatmeal I was currently swirling with the back of my spoon rather than eating. I took a tentative bite, blowing on my spoon to cool it first. Mmm. The oatmeal was actually pretty good, with the hint of raspberry and the ridiculously sweet Lucky Charms. A hint of normality after everything that had happened the night before was just what I needed. She came to sit in the kitchen chair opposite mine and rubbed her eyes.

"Okay, I can actually see you now," Angela said, squinting. "I haven't put my contacts in yet, so I'm basically blind as a bat." I could see her scrutinising my features closely and I dropped my gaze back to my breakfast, ignoring my suddenly flaming cheeks. "Bella," she began reluctantly, "are your lips...bruised?" One of her eyebrows arched as she said this, and I knew there was no point trying to hide it from her. I was pretty sure she wouldn't tell anyone, so there was no chance of everyone on campus thinking I was a whore.

"So _that's_ why you weren't in when I got home from the movies late last night," she surmised, blushing a little herself. There was a pause, and I took another bite of my breakfast to alleviate the anxiety I felt about actually telling someone else something about my life.

"Yeah," I said finally, looking her squarely in the eye. "I met this guy last night, and went back to his place. But shh. And he's not a psycho, don't worry." As I said that, I had to stifle a snort. I had no idea whether Jasper was a psycho or not: he could have been. _No, I think he's just screwed up as hell about something. Maybe an ex-girlfriend_. Angela smiled kindly, taking a sip of her coffee and pouring a mug for me. I took the hot drink, cradling it in my hands as I waited for her to speak.

"Well, I guess it's your business, Bella," she said quietly, stirring her coffee with pursed lips. Her expression was a little odd, and I was immediately worried. Had I said too much? I relaxed as her face creased into a smile. "Just tell me one thing," she said in a conspiratorial tone. "Was he hot?"

I laughed. That was so not an Angela thing to say, but I kind of loved her for saying it anyway.

"Oh, Ang," I sighed, twisting a strand of hair round my fingers. "You have no idea. It was amazing."

I felt a sudden rush of warmth for Angela. I hadn't appreciated her as a housemate enough. I didn't feel judged by her, like I would with some people. Or with a girl like Jessica who'd immediately launch into 'OMG that is so exciting! How big was his you-know-what, etc, etc.' She simply waited for me to speak, her warm eyes barely even curious. She probably wanted to know, but was choosing to let me reveal what I wanted to. And I loved her for that.

"You're so confident around guys" she marvelled, shaking her head in disbelief as she rolled a Lucky Charm between her finger and thumb. "I wish I were like that. You know Ben Cheney, my project partner for my Quaternary Palaeoenvironments course?"

_Quater-what?_ I had no idea what the hell that was. Angela was majoring in physical geography, and her courses were pretty technical at times. It kind of made me feel stupid, doing English Literature. It was what I loved, but still...wow. This girl knew about mountains, and dinosaurs, and rivers, and all that other important shit to do with the Earth, making what I did pale in comparison. I nodded, feeling a bit dumbfounded. I nodded, listening to her but feeling secretly glad that I'd told someone else about what happened between Jasper and me.

_He was real. The whole night was real. The roughness and the tenderness._

Still, I didn't think I'd ever be able to explain to anyone how intensely the experience had affected me. It was more than just his skills as a lover: he'd worshipped my body more than what I would have expected a one-night stand to do. He'd practically drawn my soul out from deep within me, until I was barely surely of where or who I was. I was loath to admit this, but it had hurt me when he'd shut down as soon as the act was over. I blinked, ignoring the sudden longing that pricked at me. I felt guilty for not concentrating on Angela, and resolved to give her my full attention, even though I was in a funk myself.

"Bella?" she asked me, noticing my far-away expression.

"Sorry," I said, biting my lip. "Just tired. Go on, tell me." I tried to inject the required amount of enthusiasm into my voice, and honestly, I really did want to hear about Angela's crush, but my mind kept returning to Jasper.

"He's so cute," she began, giggling. There was a light in this shy, quiet girl's eyes I'd never seen before. I smiled to myself, snapping out of my self-obsessed thoughts. Angela deserved some happiness. She went on. "He's my project partner, so I have to see him every lesson. Every time he passes me an igneous rock to catalogue I swear I'll faint. It's pathetic, I know it is, but I can barely string a sentence together around him. The man tongue-ties me."

"Fake it," I said, sticking my tongue out playfully. I was getting quite absorbed in this whole thing, and it was a welcome distraction from the rest of my life.

"What?" she asked, confusion furrowing her brow.

"I know I'm kind of a hermit," I began with a small laugh, "but I think you know me well enough to know that I'm not that naturally confident to start with."

"Sometimes I feel as if I don't really know you at all, Bella," she said, her voice quiet again. It had lost its girlish, excited tone. Her tone wasn't accusatory, however; merely thoughtful and measured. I paused over my cereal. I really liked Angela, but I now remembered why I avoided conversation with her when I was feeling particularly messed up.

_She sees right through me. And we both know it._ At least I knew she'd never mention it, even though the knowledge hung in the air between us.

"Anyway," I continued breezily, swallowing a mouthful of oatmeal. "Confidence isn't something that you always just naturally have. Sometimes, you have to fake it. Act confident, even if you don't feel it, and you'll start to feel it. Just ask him out for a coffee next time after class, to compare notes or something? He'll get the message. You're totally cute – I bet he won't say no."

She laughed. I was telling the truth, though – Angela was adorably sweet and really pretty, I knew any guy would lucky to have her. I hadn't talked like this with someone in a long time, and I felt a bit rusty at the whole girl-talk thing. I really liked her, though. Hanging out with her was always so easy and comfortable. I never had to try too hard with her. I'd been anti-social since we all moved into this house last September, I knew that, but that was what I was used to. In the first year here, I'd lived in dorms with three stoner guys and a quiet, mousey studious girl who barely spoke a word to anyone. I'd spent most of my time in my room, locked in a spiral of self-loathing and doubt. Maybe I really should let Angela be a friend to me though. It was nice to have friends, I remembered that much from my days in Forks. _Back when my life made sense._

She drained the last of her coffee and stood up, stretching. "Right, well I'd better go and get on with the paper. Thanks for the advice though, Bella. Not quite sure I'm feeling that brave yet, but I'll bear it in mind." She grinned warmly at me, and to my surprise, I grinned back – and I didn't have to force it like I usually did. I idly watched her pad out of the kitchen, her slippers making a soft, shuffling sound on the linoleum. Continuing with my breakfast, I sighed heavily.

_Jasper. Jasper Whitlock. Jasper Sex God, mmm...._What the hell? I'd just turned into a ridiculous, infatuated teenage girl in my head, and I was ashamed of it. Jasper was on my mind, though, and it wasn't that easy just to get rid of him. It stung me to know that he obviously hadn't wanted me there after it was over. For the first time, I wondered if I'd imagined the easy intimacy I'd felt with that man throughout the entire evening. _Oh God, when we were having sex I _kissed _his neck. I actually did that._ That was not a one-night stand sort of thing to do, I knew that much. It was an intimate gesture that left me feeling exposed, even though his pleasurable reaction to it had somewhat eased my embarrassment at the time.

Over the next couple of hours, I tried everything I could to distract myself. I did my laundry, organised my sock drawer and made three trips outside for a cigarette. I even made a start on the Hardy assignment that was due the next week. _Jude the Obscure_ had been a pretty harrowing read, but I had enjoyed it regardless. By the time ten o'clock rolled around and I realised I had to get out of the house, I had the bare bones of an outline roughed out. I decided I'd go and work on it in the library later, after my appointment. I had to rush, and barely had time to apply some mascara and eye liner before I banged the front door shut behind me. My hair had decided not to behave that morning, and had dried in a weird shape, so I pulled it up into a loose ponytail as I walked to keep it out of the way. Amazingly, I arrived with five minutes to spare.

"Hi, I'm Bella Swan," I said to the blonde reception who was filing her nails behind the desk.

"Do you have an appointment?" she said blandly as she typed my details into the computer, the acrylic of her false nails making a scraping sound against the keys. _Good Lord_. She asked me the same thing every week, even though I'd been going there for months. She had to know who I was by then: surely there couldn't be that many clients at such a small practice? I exhaled impatiently, and her eyes narrowed as she waited for me to answer. _Bitch._

"Yes, it's at eleven with Kate," I replied, affecting a bored tone which really seemed to piss her off.

"Take a seat," she said icily, gesturing for me to go and sit in one of the scuffed leather chairs that were dotted around the waiting area. I noted the rubber plant was still there after several months. Why did places like this always have plants in their waiting rooms? It really cracked me up, that the sight of a plant was supposed to calm us all down or something. It reminded me of Renée. She used to keep tons of rubber plants at the house in Phoenix. She always claimed she liked to have greenery around because it 'soothed her soul'. Of course they'd always die because she didn't water them enough, even though they only needed to be watered every couple of weeks. I smiled at the thought.

The only living things my scatty, harebrained mother could be trusted with were cacti, which could happily be left to their own devices for months on end. It was amazing she'd managed to look after me for the first fifteen years of my life, but I'd learned from a young age to be pretty self-sufficient. Not that I didn't love my mother, of course I did. Things just hadn't been the same since she'd married Phil, and I'd moved to Forks with Charlie a few months before my sixteenth birthday. She hadn't made me go, but I hadn't wanted to make her unhappy seeing as she wanted to go on the road with him. We'd kind of fallen out of touch, especially after what had happened. She'd tried to be there for me, in her clumsy way, but I hadn't been able to let anyone be there for me, not even Charlie. So I'd fled to London. I sunk down in one of the chairs, absently tapping my foot as I waited to be called.

A minute or two later, the sound of soft footsteps approaching reached my ears. I looked up to see Kate. She smiled, running a hand through her long, silky blonde hair.

"Bella. Would you like to come through?"

I nodded and followed her out of the reception area into a long corridor with many doors. We headed to a door part way along the corridor. She flicked the sign on the door to read 'Engaged' instead of 'Vacant', and held the door open for me to enter. I took in the room's surroundings: white walls and a pale tan carpet, with plenty of windows around the top of the room to let light in, two low, comfortable chairs facing one another, and a table in between with a box of tissues on it. Another of the ubiquitous rubber plants stood in the corner. It was a room I'd seen endless times, but the generic, sterile quality of it still struck me. I knew that the minimal decor of the room was to maintain the idea that the room was a generic place where you could discuss your feelings, but it still felt like a strange place to be. At least I'd gotten to know Kate fairly well. She was pleasant, and she definitely knew what she was talking about. I sensed at times she was frustrated that I didn't open up to her more than I did. Not that she ever said anything: she was good at what she did and would allow me to dictate the terms of our weekly hour-long conversation.

I took a seat and she sat down opposite me, leaning forward slightly. "So, Bella. Tell me about this week. How have things felt for you?"

I twisted my hands in my lap, feeling awkward. Going there was always difficult for me. I wasn't even sure sometimes why I did it. I knew Charlie thought it was a good thing, and he'd been pleased when I'd finally agreed to see a therapist. It helped me to sort through my day-to-day thoughts, dramas and feelings, and unload, but then, I was never fully able to explain the Kate the underlying cause of what I was feeling. I'd given her the impression that I was just a run-of-the-mill college student, confused and depressed about a life away from the shelter of a family.

"Different," I replied honestly, looking up. She was perfectly still, her face impassive as she took in my answer.

"Okay, different," she said. "Could you expand on that a little further?"

_Hmmm_. I had no idea what to say at this point. I didn't really want to tell her about the one-night stand with Jasper: that would just be far too bizarre to discuss with a therapist. For some reason, however, I felt like being more open with her than I usually was. She'd hinted at this on countless occasions, based on what I'd mentioned to her, but I had to be the one to tell her. It wasn't in her training to drag secrets out of the client: they had to come to her.

"I feel more like talking about some of my deeper stuff than I usually do," I said, fixing my eyes on the floor as I continued twisting my hands into an unnatural position.

"Deeper stuff?" she enquired, arching her eyebrows. It was a non-judgemental look, however, she was waiting for my response.

"You know," I muttered nervously. "Things in my past."

Kate nodded, and her posture remained still. "Okay, Bella," she said, pausing a second. "If you'd like to discuss something other than what we usually talk about, you have to bear in mind that it could feel very uncomfortable, and painful at first. Especially if you never discuss it with anyone else. Just remember that this is a safe space, and that everything you tell me is confidential. I will say though, if I may, it sometimes seems as if you're holding back. Would you say that's true?"

I nodded. _Okay, Bella, focus_. There was something I'd never revealed, despite the fact I'd danced around it so many times while explaining about my past with my mother, my relationship with Charlie, living in Forks, and why I'd suddenly upped sticks and moved to London. I felt the words rise in my throat and was immediately gripped by terror. _Get a grip. If you're going to tell anyone about this, your therapist is probably a good place to start_. I knew that to be true, and so I took a deep breath and prepared to speak the words I could still scarcely believe, even after, well...22 months. _22 months without him. _

"Take your time," Kate urged, and waited patiently for me to speak.

"There was a...death," I admitted, squeezing my eyes shut, not even trusting myself to focus on the carpet. I heard her sharp intake of breath and inwardly cringed. The sensation that there was a brick pressing down upon my chest had returned in full force, and I felt as if I couldn't breathe. I took a shallow, painful breath, still afraid to look up. When I finally did, and a tear spilled down my cheek, Kate's eyes were still fixed on me, her expression placid and kind.

She offered me the box of tissues on the table between us, and I took on gratefully, dabbing at my streaming eyes.

"Would you like to tell me a little more?"

I leant back in my chair, my hands visibly shaking. "It was almost two years ago. But I can't forget."

It was all I could do to tell her that, before my entire body began to shake with the effort of not breaking down and sobbing my heart out. I could have, I'm sure she was used to it, but I never wanted to break in front of someone else.

We were silent for a few minutes, as I managed to get a handle on my emotions and the shaking subsided. I found my voice again, and it was faint. "I can't," I whispered.

"I think you did extremely well, managing to tell me. I'd suspected, by your behaviour, that you'd suffered some sort of bereavement," she said after a few moments. "I have a background in grief counselling, and I often find that painful feelings can come up years afterwards, especially if you've never addressed them before."

I nodded. "Perhaps we can gradually move on to discussing it a little more each time?" she asked mildly, taking a pen out and scribbling something on her notes. "Slowly, so you won't be overwhelmed. If you don't feel like you can, you may stop me at any time and we'll talk about something else. How does that sound?"

"I don't feel like I can nearly all the time." I sighed. It had felt okay telling her, though, strangely enough, after the initial physical reaction to thinking about Edward's death had passed. That was definitely something different for me.

"This is a safe space, Bella, but it won't always be a comfortable space," she said quietly. "It's a good sign that you're ready to confront this, however. We can take it as slowly as you like."

"Slow is good," I murmured, barely audibly, but I knew she heard me as a slight smile appeared on her face.

She set down her pen and notes, and straightened up. "How has university felt for you this week, then?" The hard part was over, and we were back to what our sessions would usually consist of. I could feel there had been a change in me, and it scared me.

I didn't sleep well that night. I feared what my dreams would be, given the feelings I'd confronted during the day I was sure that my subconscious would torture me while I slept. I stayed up until around 3AM, finally crashing out with exhaustion, not even bothering to turn out my light.

_I stood in the sun-dappled kitchen, trying to process the news I'd just received. "Dartmouth?" I asked incredulously, fingering the thick, heavy paper that began with the words "Dear Miss Swan, we are pleased to inform you that..." I furrowed my brow. Surely there had to be some mistake? I glanced up and caught the hint of smugness in the smile that was playing on Edward's lips as he watched me take in the news. He stepped towards me and his arms encircled my waist from behind, pressing a kiss to my hair as he bowed his body against my back. "Congratulations," he murmured, his kisses carrying on down to my neck and collarbone, jolts of simmering fire surging through me at each brush of his warm lips against my skin. But wait...that boy! I realised he was trying to distract me, and I was having none of it. I wriggled free of his arms._

"_Edward-," I began solemnly, ignoring the confusion on his face, "-did Dartmouth by any chance receive a large donation for, say, the new Masen Biology Lab?" I fixed my eyes upon him again, but predictably, his face was impassive._

"_I have no idea what you're talking about, love," he replied with an easy smile, casually leaning against one of the kitchen cabinets, but I knew him too well to believe that well-acted display of innocence._

"_Hmph," I muttered. "It doesn't matter, I still know that you did this. I mean, this is so huge, and I feel like I have nothing to give back to you in return, and it's just well, overwhelming, and I..."_

"_Shh, Bella."_

_Moments later, his lips found my forehead, my eyelids, and then my cheeks, stopping just short of my lips. "It's lovely when you blush." I dragged him to me then, devouring his mouth with frantic urgency, and a slight edge of anger._

_........._

_In that same instant, his face altered before my very eyes. Gone was the flushed, triumphant, laughing boy whose green eyes shone with his love for me, and his carefree happiness._

_It had been replaced by sunken, hollow eyes set into a greying, pale face weary from sorrow. The green orbs held no warmth, no sparkle. I suddenly realised I was somewhere completely different - a place that was a time and space long past my sun-filled bedroom on that perfect April morning. My vision panned back to see the body lying on the floor and I shivered as a gust of wintry air stole into the room from the open window._

_Traces of vomit dotted his chin, and more lay beside his head. I choked back a fresh wave of bile that threatened to expel itself from my stomach, tasting the bitterness on my tongue. I stroked his lifeless fingers, pressing my lips to his vomit-covered chin._

"_Come back," I whispered, my voice hoarse as fear and terror took over my heart. The sight of the empty bottle of pills next to him triggered my brain into action. In that second I came back to myself and yanked my cell phone from my pocket, feeling the blood pulsing through my veins. Tapping the three familiar digits into my phone, I muttered to myself while I waited to be connected. "Come back...please."_

_In the next second, his face morphed into Jasper Whitlock's, his soulful blue eyes boring into me. Beneath those eyes was a darkness I couldn't even fathom..._

I woke clutching my sheets, my body sticky with a sheen of cold sweat that had soaked right through my flannel pyjamas. I sat up in bed, panting, screaming sobs still ripping themselves from my raw throat. A creak of floorboards from next door startled me. _Crap. I've woken up Angela_. The soft padding of feet on carpet reached my ears, but died away just as quickly, as if she'd made for the door, but then thought better of it. The guilt of having woken her with my own nightmare washed over me, but the idea of her coming in and seeing me like that was even worse.

I hadn't dreamt of Edward and I in a while. The last part of the dream – the discovery of his dead body – was the moment I usually relived. I knew that I may never see anything as horrifying as that sight as long as I lived - the man I love lying pale and still.

_Suicide. _Such a short, simple word to represent so much pain and suffering, both for its immediate victim, and its other victims: those left behind.

My stomach threatened to revolt at that word, as it had at the time when the EMTs, the doctor, Charlie, had used it. At least I didn't usually vomit any more, which was the automatic way my body had responded to the nightmare at first. The rare occasions when I dreamt of our happy times together were even more painful, if that was possible. I longed to rip my heart from my chest, but knew even that would not even assuage the guilt and longing that crashed over me when I remembered our celebration of my college acceptance, and the sweet, wonderful lovemaking that followed.

It had deeply disturbed me when Jasper's face had suddenly appeared in my dream. It was only a phantom, a mere shadow of him, but it was unsettling, dreaming of my most recent lover alongside Edward. I could make a guess, however, at why he'd infiltrated my subconscious mind. The whole experience the night before had intensely shaken me. Even though I loathed myself for admitting it, I wanted more. I wanted whatever that man had that made me feel as though I was real. Since my dalliance with Jasper, all my emotions had been magnified, and I'd begun to let my guard down in ways I'd never thought possible.

I was naked, exposed – but maybe I had to be. Kate had seemed encouraged by my increased openness, and maybe I was finally ready. _Who knew that a one-night stand with a bartender would be the trigger for my biggest emotional release in nearly two years? _Lighting a cigarette, I sat on a chair beside my open window as I smoked it, trying to banish thoughts of seeing Jasper again. My breaths grew slower, less panicked as my body calmed itself. I thought of the scissors beneath my bed, but I resolved to stick with the nicotine for now. I could control my compulsions, if not my thoughts.

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**What did you think of that? It was a little different, granted, but things are changing for Bella. Next chapter will be a JPOV. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought! Again, I'm very sorry I took so long to update, but I'm sure you understand the demands my degree places on me. There will be teasers and picteases on my blog for the coming chapters as usual - link is on my profile. Follow me on twitter to see when they appear - glitteratiglue. To any of those who also read BASS, I haven't forgotten it and I _will _finish it, I'm just a little stuck. I'll get to it soon. Thanks for reading! xxx**


	6. Miscommunications

**Here's the JPOV chapter as promised, set a few days later. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it, reviews are hugely appreciated and I will reply to them. I have a lot of exams coming up so updates may be a little more sporadic from now on, but I'm sure you all understand.**

**For any readers of BASS, I seem to have found my groove again and I'm well on the way with the 9th chapter. It should be up in a next couple of weeks, I hope.**

*** Warning - Slight illicit drug use in the chapter (nothing serious). I promise I won't be putting warnings on all the chapters but I'd rather do it so people are aware of anything that might be sensitive to them before they read. I know it's been a bit of a rough ride so far but thanks for sticking with it. Everything will be alright in the end, I promise - it'll just take a little while to get there. *  
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***** Thanks to SydneyTwiMum and SunKingFF for their help in polishing this chapter. ***  
**

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_**Song: Matters At All - Kids In Glass Houses**_

**Chapter 6: Miscommunications**

**JPOV**

"So, man, are you gonna call her or what?" Pete said, an amused expression on his face as he saw me staring at the piece of paper in my hand for the millionth time. I gazed at the number on the now crumpled piece of paper I'd been carrying around in my pocket. For a change, the girl in question hadn't given me this number, and I'd actively sought it out myself.I'd fought with it for several days after our night together, telling myself that contacting Bella would be wrong. I'd led her on; I couldn't give her what she wanted. At the same time, I was utterly captivated by her, and the sex had been incredible. When I'd finally resigned myself to the fact that I had to contact her and see if she was up for a repeat performance. I was amazed that she was in the phone book, considering she lived in a shared house, but she must have held the listing in her name. _This was going to be way too easy. _

"Hi," I said smoothly, my throat feeling suddenly dry.

The voice that answered was wary. "Hello. Who is this?"

"Jasper Whitlock," I told her, accentuating my Southern drawl for effect. There was a brief pause while she recognised the name. I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and couldn't help wondering what it meant.

"Oh, it's _you,_" was all she said. I started to feel uncharacteristically nervous and tongue-tied. Bella wasn't one of those simpering girly-girls who'd just gush down the phone about what a great time they had. Her icy response hadn't been what I was expecting. I wasn't sure how to reply to that.

"Is that a good thing?" I quipped, turning the charm up to full wattage. _No laugh?_ Well, maybe she was immune.

"Maybe," she said in a bored tone. _Shit._ This was definitely not how I'd envisioned our phone call. I'd hoped for some mild flirtation before we got into arranging the date when we'd next get together. Even if I wasn't ready for more, maybe we could just... I would hardly use the term 'fuck-buddy' with her, but uncomplicated sex with Bella Swan sounded like an attractive prospect. Even the mere sound of her voice made my dick hard. I shifted uncomfortably, attempting to disguise the obvious erection I was sporting in my tight pants. Pete had gone to the cellar to get a new barrel keg, thankfully, so he wasn't there to witness the awkward exchange.

"What do you want, Jasper?" she said after a moment, clearly irritated by the phone call.

"I'd like to see you again, darlin'," I told her, slipping back into the use of my standard endearment with women. That word, coupled with my accent, normally proved to be a panty-peeler. I had a feeling that Bella was no pushover though, like most of those girls. "The other night, you were fucking amazing. I'd like to meet up and do that again, if you want," I mumbled hastily, immediately regretting my choice of words the second that clumsy sentence was out of my mouth.

_Nonono! You IDIOT...how the hell is she going to say yes to that? Motherfucker!!! _I had no idea what the hell it was about Bella that made me fumble my words so much, and with such disastrous results.

"Well-" she began, with a nervous little laugh. "It's nice to hear that I'm fucking amazing. But I wasn't under the impression you wanted to see me again."

It was then that it suddenly dawned on me that she had to still be pissed about the way I'd acted towards her at the end of the night. In all the fantasising I'd done over the previous few days, I'd somehow managed to bury that particular aspect in the depths of my memory. She remembered, though – there was no doubt about that.

I took a deep breath._ Christ, I'm such an jerk. No wonder she hates me. _I owed it to her to at least try and explain how fucked up I was about things. Why I hadn't taken her to my bed to fuck her. Why I'd been so cold to her afterwards. "Whatever I did, it doesn't mean that I don't want to see you again," I said quietly. She was silent, digesting my words. I'm not sure if that statement meant the same to her as it did to me, but I felt my heart rate increase as I waited for her answer. Why the hell did I care so much what she thought?

"It was just sex," she said harshly, but I detected a barely perceptible quiver in her voice. "You don't have to explain yourself, try and make out that it's a big deal or something. Why did you even call me?"

"I wanted to," was all I said, trying to make out that her words hadn't stung me. My normal confidence was ebbing away, and my usual tricks didn't work on Bella. She saw me for what I was, and I didn't like it one bit. I thought of adding something else, but my mind had become a tangle of incoherent thoughts, and in the end, I remained silent.

"Please, don't," Bella said, her voice taking on an urgent, serious tone. "I don't know what it is you're looking for, but I can't give it to you. Don't call me again, Jasper."

Before I'd even opened my mouth to reply, I heard the click that meant the call had disconnected. I shoved my phone back in my pocket, trying to ignore the hollow, gnawing feeling in my gut.

"How did it go?" I jumped as I realised Pete had just returned with the keg.

"She hung up on me," I said dully, not even bothering to hide it. Pete started to laugh, but it abruptly died in his throat when he saw the crestfallen expression on my face.

"What the hell is it with this girl? I've never seen you like this before."

"Whatever, man." I shrugged, playfully punching him on the arm. "I'll get over it."

"You're still coming out tonight, yeah?" he asked.

"Sure," I told him, trying to inject the required amount of enthusiasm into my voice. That night was our usual Friday night outing, which would consist of going to one of the various rock bars or clubs after Phoenix closed, and getting horrendously drunk. A few other friends of ours – Irina, Garrett and Laurent – were also going out. Normally I'd look forward to it, but that night...I don't know. I just felt jaded, tired of doing the same thing all the time. Bella was preoccupying my thoughts far more than she should, and I was afraid to admit how pathetically obsessed I was becoming with her memory. A few hours later, we closed up and the three of us headed over the meet the others at _Underworld_, one of the local Camden clubs. Grungy, with sticky floors but good music, it was a decent enough place to get drunk in.

"Hi, Jazz," Irina laughed, running a hand through her long curtain of silvery blonde hair. "Who's the lucky lady tonight? Or have you not found her yet?" I kissed her on the cheek.

"Perhaps I'm looking for you," I teased, and she giggled.

"Shut up, creep." Irina and I had engaged in a mild flirtation for years, but we didn't see each other in that way. Flirtatious banter was pretty much our standby. She was nice enough, but a little vapid. Garrett and Laurent, who I'd also known for a few years, were just a couple of fairly standard guys. We watched sports together, drank together, and that was about it.

I greeted Laurent and Garrett, and we all walked inside. The dance floor was packed with bodies moving to the thumping beats that blasted from the speakers. Feeling suddenly morose, I bought two beers at once and swiftly downed them in quick succession. I got into a conversation with Laurent about the Arsenal game from the night before as I sipped my beer. It was pleasantly diverting, distracting my mind with trivialities such as the latest football scores. I heard the heavy riff of Audioslave's _Cochise_ start up, and automatically scanned the floor, watching the dancers.

I couldn't believe what I saw. Across the room, Bella was leaning against the bar on the opposite side of the room, sipping at a drink as she swayed to the heavy music that was playing over the speakers. Guys were eyeing her up but she paid little attention to them, merely shaking her head if any of them tried to get too close to her. I didn't believe in all that serendipity crap – after all, she lived nearby, and it made sense that we might frequent the same venues – but if I ever were to believe in it, it would have been at that moment. By some twist of fate, the woman who'd haunted every one of my fantasies this past week was right in front of me, and the reality far surpassed what my limited imagination could come up with.

The long, dark tendrils of her hair fell down her back like rain, framing the delicate features of her face perfectly. Even from over here I could see her dark eyes and soft full lips, silently framing the words to the song. Her simple red tank top and denim skirt looked great, and she was wearing biker boots which, for some reason, suited her even more. She was open and vulnerable, while at the same time, fierce and tough. Bella Swan was magnificent. A little of the hardness that surrounded my heart chipped away as I watched her stand there alone, with only her drink for company. It didn't bother her in the slightest though, I realised. She wanted to be alone. I took a sip of my beer, debating as to whether I should approach her.

I hadn't realised that Charlotte had sidled up to me, and was watching me. "I can see who you're looking at, you know," she breathed into my ear, not missing a trick as usual. "She's as beautiful as Peter said she was." I forgot that he'd seen Bella the first night she came to Phoenix. She always called him _Peter_, which I found funny as hell – to me he was just Pete, and he always had been. I guess it was just a thing they had, however. They'd been together five years, and though they had some rows over the running of the business, they were really good together. I wondered sometimes why I didn't just shoot myself in the foot, given that my four closest friends were in happy long-term relationships with one another. None of them realised that I might want this for myself, however. Hell, I didn't even know if I did. It had been so long since I'd really opened up to someone, and I didn't even know if I could remember how.

I turned to Charlotte with a smile. "Is it that obvious?"

She laughed. "Maybe a bit. Why don't you go and talk to her? Pete told me about the hang-up, but then again, isn't a girl like her worth another try?"

"I think maybe she wants to be alone." I was still wary of going over there, given the fact that my ego had been somewhat bruised this morning as a result of our phone call.

"Cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck," a voice muttered nearby. I realised that Pete had come to stand beside Charlotte.

"Yeah, alright, I get it." I sighed. "Fine. I'll fucking go over there." The two of them nodded approvingly. I wasn't about to go over and announce my presence to Bella without a little Dutch courage, however. I ordered a double Glenfiddich on the rocks, knocking it back quickly. That was a bit of a crime, considering that the quality of the whiskey deserved to be savoured, but I had no time to waste. I made a path through the throngs of dancers, inching my way through to the other side of the room. She was so absorbed in listening to the song she didn't even realise I was there until I tapped her on the shoulder. She started.

"Bella," I said. Her eyes widened, and then I saw her appraise my body, her gaze running over my black shirt and jeans. Unfortunately, her expression twisted into a frown the next second.

"Leave me alone!" she cried, jumping off the stool and starting to walk away. I grabbed her arm, not letting her. She at least had to talk to me.

"Please," I implored, raising my voice over the loud music. "Just let me talk to you for one sec."

_Now I'm really starting to sound pathetic. I'm BEGGING a girl to talk to me. _She sighed, shrugging off my grip on her arm, and came back to the bar. I watched her take a sip of her vodka through a tiny straw, marvelling at her attractiveness. Bella looked up at me beneath her coal-black lashes, waiting for me to explain myself.

"I'm sorry I was such a fuckwit the other night after it was over. I didn't mean to act that way, I just..."

To my surprise, she reached out and tugged at the collar of my shirt, anger evident on her face. "_That_ doesn't even matter," she told me icily. "Why do you keep apologising for that? It was a one-night stand – no more, no less. You seem a lot more upset about that than I am." She said this with such conviction, and yet I saw the hurt that lay beneath her eyes and realised she wasn't as cool about it as she appeared to me. It was probably best to get off the subject, though.

"Okay," I said, unsure what to say next. She rolled her eyes.

"Look, you don't need to apologise for the other night. I got what I was looking for when you took me home with you. But I don't want to be reminded of it all the time, when you try and call me, or somehow just appear at the exact place I'm in."

"I didn't know you'd be here," I said honestly, and I saw a hint of a smile peeking through on her serious face.

"Probably true," she agreed. "I just don't want to get into something that's more than one night. I can't do it. You wouldn't like who I was if you really knew me. You already know a little too much about me."

I realised she was referring to her self-harm, and she cast her eyes down in embarrassment. "That doesn't matter one bit. I doubt you'd like the real me, either," I told her. Actually, it did matter, and I really hated that she did it, but I knew it was her problem to deal with. This conversation was getting a little too deep, considering the fact that we were in a loud rock club. "Okay, fine," I added. "I know you're not looking for anything serious, and neither am I. Can't we just...hang out?" I left a pause for suggestiveness, but I was sure it wasn't necessary. She knew what I meant, either way.

"I don't think that would be good for me," she told me, her expression still careful. _Well, actually, Bella, I think it would be very good for _me_. But hey..._"You're not my type, Jasper. And I'm not the kind of girl you'd want. I'm not...normal."

Bella definitely wasn't my type. For one thing, her breasts were definitely her own. I involuntarily shot a glance at her neckline, taking in the soft curves of her cleavage that peeked out of the tank top. _Stop it!_ I returned my gaze to her face, and it seemed she hadn't noticed my blatant leering.

"Can you even believe for just a second that I'm not some total jerk?"

"No," she told me as she squared her hands on her hips, her brown eyes blazing with an unquenchable fire. She looked stunning, even if she was pissed at me, and I couldn't help feeling slightly in awe of her. "You're a bartender. I don't think that usually translates into being Mr Reliable."

In spite of myself, I bristled at that comment. "It's my fucking job, Bella," I spat. "It doesn't make me who I am."

"Then what does?" Her gaze was searching, and she looked like she was afraid of the answer. The tension in the air between us was palpable, and so I did the only thing that seemed to make sense at the time.

On the edge of the sweaty crowd, right in front of the barman, I pulled her to me, crashing my lips down on hers out of sheer desperation and need. To my surprise, she responded enthusiastically, her soft lips moving against mine as her tongue slipped into my mouth to entwine itself with mine. I pulled her onto the dance floor so we could lose ourselves in the sea of bodies. Warmth fired straight to my groin, and I knew she could feel how hard I was, considering we were in such close proximity. She shifted against me and let out this breathy little moan that was just incredibly hot. Another heavier song started, and the deep, pulsing beat made us move together naturally. Bella ground against me, her arms round my neck as I wound mine round my waist.

After a few moments I couldn't resist letting my palms ghost down over her luscious ass, grasping it as I let out an audible groan. She sighed, tightening her arms that were locked round my neck. Slowly, deliberately, she brought her mouth to my ear and nipped at the lobe with her teeth. I wondered if she was as wet as I was hard, and funnily enough, that thought made my dick harder still. My fingers found the hem of her little denim skirt and travelled upwards, drifting over the bare skin of her thigh. I couldn't feel the roughness of her scars, meaning that they'd mostly healed. It pleased me to know that as far as I could tell, she hadn't cut herself since we had last seen each other. I didn't know what that said about me, or if it was just an occasional thing for her, but something told me that Bella's pain was not something which she only experienced occasionally. She lived it, just as I did.

Bella shivered as I teasingly rubbed her thigh, always keeping my fingertips away from the edge of her panties on her hip. _Oh God._ This girl was driving me insane. One more nip at the earlobe, or one more of those little moans from her, and I might have even exploded in my pants. Jazz, jizzing in his pants? I was pretty sure there was definitely some humour in there, somewhere, but then again, that would be pretty damn embarrassing if it actually happened. We broke apart, breathing heavily.

"Jasper," she muttered. "The other night, you know, you were so...I don't think I've come so hard in ages." She was probably drunk if she told me that, but it was nice to hear. At the sound of those words from Bella, my cock strained painfully against the fabric of my jeans.

"It was my pleasure, darlin'. And you're not so bad yourself," I told her, my hot breath tickling her ear as I whispered to her. "Do you want to get out of here?" I asked, feeling the blood pound in my veins as I waited for her answer. Bella licked her lips, and I yet again had to fight off the vision of what those soft, wet lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. She frowned. _Oh please no..._

She leaned over and muttered in my ear. "Why don't we just get a drink and see what happens?" I tugged my wallet from my back pocket and made for the bar, but she shook her head. "I'll get it." She seemed hesitant, but I pressed a note into her hand and she took it.

"You can get them, if you insist - but I'll pay." I grinned at her, watching her as she walked over to the bar in her clumpy, yet incredibly sexy boots.

"_Beer?"_ she mouthed at me as she reached the bar, and I nodded.

As I watched Bella make her way to the bar, I felt a hand on my arm, and automatically turned. I groaned inwardly as I realised who the hand belonged to. Out of all the people I'd want to see, Jane would probably come bottom of the list. She was a girl I'd slept with a few times, but never had any interest in pursuing anything more with - not that it mattered. I knew for a fact that she was screwing several other guys at the same time. It wasn't the fact that she was a slut particularly, but more that her personality that put me off her. Jane wouldn't hesitate to drop someone once she had what she wanted. She had a serious coke habit and as that shit was expensive, would gravitate to anyone who had the money to buy it. I'd done it from time to time, more when I was with her, but I didn't like to make a habit of it. That was where she and I differed. In all likelihood, she'd started pursuing me as I had the money to buy her drug of choice. Not that I bandied my wealth about, but people somehow still seemed to know about it.

"Jasper," she purred, the scent of her cheap perfume saturating the surrounding air. Her faux little-girl voice made my skin crawl. In the next second, she'd wrapped my arms round her waist, holding me to her possessively.

"Jane, what are you - ?" I started, but she hushed me.

"You haven't called me in a while," she said, adjusting her horrible leather corset at the cleavage so her pale, doughy breasts spilled out over the top of the too-small garment. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused. A cursory glance at her heavily made-up face revealed a speck of white powder at the edge of her nostril. I fought the urge to laugh. _Typical Jane. _The last time we'd seen each other, she'd told me in no uncertain terms to get lost. That must be the reason why Jane was propositioning me – she was high as a kite. I linked my hands into hers, preparing to gently extricate myself from her embrace as I didn't want to wound her pride more than necessary.

It was then I turned round to see Bella focusing on us from where she stood at the bar. "Get off me," I hissed, shrugging out of Jane's grasp. She gave me a sour look and then stalked off, tottering on her stilettos. But it was too late. Bella had seen me with my hands all over another girl. She wouldn't believe anything I told her. _And why on earth should she? _I made for the bar at once, hoping to explain myself, but it was too crowded for me to get to her fast enough. I watched her eyes fill with tears as she dropped the money I'd given her on the ground, and then she ran for the exit. By the time I'd forced my way to the exit myself and looked down the street, she'd gone. _Fuck. That went well._ I shivered as a cold wind blew through the thin fabric of my shirt, and I was worried. Bella was obviously vulnerable, and I was afraid of what she might do. Flipping open the packet, I pulled out a cigarette and smoked it quickly, mentally berating myself the whole time.

"Jazz?" Pete had followed me out. I didn't know how much he'd seen, and I didn't really want to know, either. He put his hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off.

"I'm going home." With that, I turned on my heel and left, feeling Pete's eyes boring into my back. He was used to my moods, but I knew he'd want to know what the hell was up next time I was working. I knew I was acting like a bit of an asshole, but I had to get out of there. I hoped that he'd make my excuses to Charlotte and the others.

I walked home at a brisk pace, and paused on the front step of my building. I could see Camden Lock in the distance, illuminated by the glint of many street lights. Bella was out there somewhere, and I hoped she was okay. By force of habit, I fingered the tattoo on my right arm, the reminder of the greatest failure I'd ever made as a human being.

_I've never been able to do anything right since I lost you. What would you be like now, I wonder, if I still knew you? And where would I be?_ _I'm nothing. I'm no-one. I'm sorry._

With a sigh, I entered my building and carried on up to the flat, letting myself in silently. Normally when I felt like that, I'd just take some faceless woman home with me, but that night it had not been an option. There had been plenty of pretty girls in the club, and I'd caught several of them eyeing me up. It would have been easy enough to talk them into coming home with me, but I hadn't wanted to. Even after Bella had left, I'd felt empty and numb without her there. It didn't feel right. All the other girls were pretty, but they weren't _her. _Right then, she was the only girl I wanted to be with, sexually or otherwise.

_Right. Getting stoned it is, then. _Rifling through my drawers, I found the clear plastic bag that held a small quantity of some really good quality stuff that I'd acquired a while back. It was a rare occurrence for me, but that night it was just what I wanted. I rolled the joint with shaking fingers. Collapsing on the sofa, I lit it and smoked it slowly, wanting not to feel for once. The numbing feeling spread through me, and I relaxed, falling into a stupor of blissful nothingness for the rest of the night.

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**BTW, Jasper isn't a cokehead, or a pothead. Just making it clear that the weed's an occasional habit. These poor kids are screwed up enough as it is - I'm not throwing drug addiction into the mix as well. Bahahahaha. Bella isn't going to make it easy for him, is she? *evil laugh*.**

**I'm sure you all want to know what Bella was thinking throughout all this, but there will be a BPOV next chapter. Please review and let me know what you thought! If you're pissed off at Jazz for his untimely phone call, let me know about it. If you hate Bella for shooting his ass down, tell me. If you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it, then I'd love to hear that too.**

**Also, I'm planning some outtakes to the story, which I won't be posting until later chapters are up as they won't make sense otherwise. One option is an extended version of the Dartmouth acceptance scene between Bella and Edward, which is a nice prequel moment. Let me know your ideas for any missing moments, outtakes or extras you might like to see later.**

**Thanks for reading! Follow me on Twitter (glitteratiglue) for more info on updates. Teasers will be posted on my blog near the time of an update. Polyvore outfits are on my profile if you want a visual for each chapter xxx**


	7. The Domino Effect

**I have a lot of exams, so the updates are slow, I know. Also, my beta sadly lost part of this chapter, including a lot of her own work when her laptop was stolen, so she needed time to start it again. Thankyou for all the wonderful reviews I've been receiving, it's great to hear that people are enjoying this. I reply whenever possible. Please keep it up!**

**** Thanks to SunKing for her careful beta eye, and thanks to SydneyTwiMum, Alverdine & evieeden - ****they rock :). **  
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_**Song: The Hand That Feeds – Nine Inch Nails**_

**Chapter 7: The Domino Effect  
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**BPOV**

I stumbled blindly out into the night, my eyes blurring with tears. My stomach felt as if it had dropped into another dimension. Knots twisted in my belly as I ran round the corner, out of sight if he should he try to follow me. What the hell had made me think that Jasper was a genuine guy? I'd turned my back for one second and he had his hands all over some scantily clad woman. When I'd looked back at him and seen him with that girl, it only confirmed everything I'd already surmised about him. He was a highly charming and charismatic man, to such an extent that it was easy to believe things when he said them, if only during the moment you were looking into his devastatingly blue eyes. Satisfied that I was far enough that he wouldn't go after me, I sank down against the wall with my face in my hands. It had started to rain outside, and as an icy wind blew, the droplets blew against my bare arm, forming patterns. Goosebumps prickled on my skin because I had no jacket and only a light tank top for warmth. I stayed there for a moment or two, letting my stilted, shaking sobs subside, not even caring that the freezing rain was beginning to pour down upon me. The streets were busy that night, and several people stopped to ask if I was okay, but I waved them away.

_Bella, you're pathetic. Get up!_

Shaking the water from my hair, I got to my feet with some effort, as my body was beginning to feel numb with the cold. I'd obviously had too much to drink, even though I'd only gone out to get away from it all. I must have looked a state as I took my bedraggled self home; makeup running down my face, hair in rat-tails and my clothes soaked through. I let myself in silently, pulling off my heavy boots at the door so as not to announce my presence to anyone. Once inside my bedroom, I tore off my wet garments and wrapped a towel about myself. My teeth chattered with cold as I made my way to the bathroom. A hot shower sounded unbelievably good.

I turned the water on and immediately luxuriated in the warmth as it poured over my skin, reaching for the shower gel with my still-trembling hands. I was in emotional turmoil, and it didn't have much to do with Jasper or whoever that girl was. It was Edward. I missed him so desperately that every part of me ached to have him with me. I wanted him to hold me, to tell me that everything was going to be okay – to take it all away. _But of course, if he was here, this wouldn't be happening. You wouldn't even be here._ How I wished I could go back in time - that there was something, _anything_ I could have done to prevent his maligned fate. The headlines in the local papers swam in my mind: 'Tragic Teen Takes Own Life', 'High School Sweethearts Separated By Suicide'.

The ridiculous, banal words bounced around my head, and none of them seemed to apply to Edward and me, or to the devastation it had caused all those who knew him. Even all through the darkness of the depression he'd intermittently suffered from, I never thought that he would have resorted to that. Those were thoughts I'd refused to let myself have in a long time, but it was as if the brief exchange with Kate days before had opened a floodgate. Or maybe it was Jasper. I felt a jolt in my stomach as he came to mind and sought to banish that particular thought. Either way, I had a sickening feeling that there was no going back. I was going to have to confront my emotions, rather than subsuming them in loneliness and nicotine.

_How could you do this to me, Edward?_ I thought savagely. _How could you leave me, when we'd made so many plans?_ I reached for my nail scissors and hoped that somehow I was punishing him as well as myself.

The water cascaded down upon my pale body as dots of red mixed with the water, turning it pink wherever they touched. Suddenly, it was if I came to my senses. I threw the scissors to the floor and collapsed on the bottom of the bathtub in horror at my own actions. The familiar sense of euphoria and release was there, but an unusual sense of shame and guilt accompanied it. I wasn't ready to give up my crutch yet, but my revulsion at my own behaviour definitely suggested something was different.

The water poured down the drain in a circular motion, mixing with the soap and bubbling as it touched the cold metal. I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there, but I remained on the bathtub floor for at least five minutes, hating myself for what I inflicted on my own flesh. _I have to stop this, sooner or later._ That was a sobering thought, and it echoed in my mind as I climbed out of the tub. I carefully dried myself, avoiding my thighs where my injuries lay. I was afraid I'd end up with permanent scarring, but I always did my best to clean the wounds up and bind them neatly. Funny, really, that I had a whole routine where my unhealthy habit was concerned, but it was a routine that helped me get through each and every day, even when I didn't do it. Back in my room, I applied antiseptic and drifted into an uneasy, alcohol-induced sleep. Jasper haunted my dreams, which was unsurprising, as thoughts of him intermingled with thoughts of Edward were at the forefront of my mind most of the time.

The next morning, I awoke with a slightly aching head, but it was nothing that a couple of aspirin couldn't cure. For a brief few seconds, as often happened in the first moments after waking, I remembered nothing about how my life was and almost imagined myself to be normal. Then my brain caught up with me, and I was reminded of everything that had driven me to this place. I sighed heavily, sitting up in bed. All the same, the day didn't instantly feel like it was going to be a bad day. I lit up my first cigarette of the day, leaning out the window to smoke it. In contrast to the icy weather of the day before, the day was a little warmer, and hints of sun were even intermittently peeking through the clouds. It was nearing the end of March, and spring was on its way. It was early yet, but the street was already filled with people on their way to work, the city buzzing with activity.

With a mind to go to the library to work on my essay, I showered and dressed quickly before leaving the house. I didn't have breakfast, as I felt too sick to my stomach. Whether that was due to the copious amounts of alcohol I'd consumed the previous night, or my general anxiety over the situation with Jasper, I didn't know. My movements felt almost mechanical as I walked the familiar route to the tube station and took my usual train to the campus. As I exited the station, I could hear bhangra music blasting from a local Indian café and the roar of traffic. Everything seemed louder today, less distant than usual.

I made it to the library and went to the second floor to search out some literary criticism books I needed for the Hardy assignment. Taking them to the counter, I noticed Esme Platt, one of the librarians I often dealt with, was sitting at the desk. Esme was young - she couldn't have been much older than me - and very pretty, with wavy, lustrous caramel-blonde hair. She was definitely the friendliest librarian there, and I'd been to her with numerous queries before. She liked to talk, and had been a Lit major during her degree, so we often discussed our favourite novels and journal articles. It was quiet that day so she was reading a book behind the counter with her glasses perched on the end of her slim nose.

"Bella!" she exclaimed, putting down her book.

"Hi, Esme," I said cheerfully, and she flashed a dazzling smile at me. I immediately felt at ease. "Just got a few today," I added, carefully placing my stack of books on the counter as I handed her my student card so she could access my borrowing account.

"No problem," she replied, and began scanning them. Looking up at me, she paused, her lips frozen in an 'o' as if she were just about to speak. "Bella, would you like to come to dinner at my place Thursday night?" she asked, smiling. "Carlisle and I are having a few people over, just casual, but I thought it might be fun."

My eyes widened as I took in her words, both surprised and flattered by the request. It was really sweet of her to invite me. I mean, I supposed we were pretty much friends, as we had such similar interests and I seemed to spend half my life in the library. I hoped she wasn't just inviting me out of pity because she thought I was the weird, friendless library-freak or something. Snapping out of it, I plastered a broad smile on my face.

"Sure, I'd love to, thanks," I said, fiddling with a strand of my hair awkwardly.

"Great!" She beamed. "Eight o'clock?" I nodded. Esme deftly passed my books through the security scanner and handed them back to me.

"So, what are you reading today?" I asked, leaning on the counter slightly.

Her face lit up with excitement as she showed me the cover of her book _To The Lighthouse, _another Virginia Woolf. I couldn't help letting out a giggle. Esme and I shared a long-standing, jokey disagreement over modernist novels. She was always extolling the virtues of Proust, Joyce, Faulkner and all the others. I'd read those novels, and while I wasn't personally a fan of stream-of-consciousness prose, she adored it. The copy she was reading looked well worn.

"I know it's not your thing, Bella," she teased, "but this one never gets old. I could read it a million times and still never get tired of it. Carlisle made fun of me this morning when he saw me put it in my bag."

Oh yeah. I flushed slightly as I realised I'd forgotten to ask about Esme's fiance, Carlisle. She would half-heartedly complain about him from time to time, but I could see the way she glowed when she talked about him. They quite obviously adored each other, and I realised with a sinking feeling that I would get to meet him on Saturday night. I was sure that Carlisle would be a really nice man, but I just wasn't sure if I was feeling emotionally stable enough to cope with the sight of a blissfully happy couple.

Without warning, another wave of anger towards Edward surfaced, boiling beneath my skin. Suddenly all I felt was numb.

_Once we were that happy, and he threw it all away when he took himself from this world._

Even though I tried to resist remembering those particular moments in the few months before he died, I couldn't always prevent it. My head spun, reeling with emotions as my brain lurched into a recollection...

_I knelt down beside him, taking his hands in mine. "Hey, what's wrong?"_

"_They're not working," he said bitterly, holding the letter in his palm heavily._

"_We just have to give it time," I soothed, rubbing his back. "The doctor said that it can take up to six -"_

"_I know what the doctor said," he sighed wearily, shrugging off my touch._

"_Isn't there anything I can do for you?"_

"_I'm sorry," he said suddenly, turning towards me and taking my face in his hands. "I don't mean to be like this. I just feel so lost. So _weak. _Why can't I cope? I'm pathetic."_

"_You are _not_ pathetic," I told him emphatically. "Depression's very common, like the doctor told you. The point is, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. I wish you'd go and see a therapist like he recommended."_

"_The pills _will _work eventually," he told me flatly. "I don't want to talk to someone about it. That'll just make me feel worse."_

_I realised I needed to change tack. Reaching for the letter in his hand, I unfurled it and held it in front of him. "Edward, this is great. You've got a music scholarship. I guess now I can forgive you sort of for going behind my back and paying my way into Dartmouth, seeing as your tuition is paid for. Can't you at least just try to feel good about this?"_

_A weak smile appeared through the clouds, remaining on his face only briefly before it slid back into its empty hollow expression._

"_What would I do without you, Bella?" he murmured, his voice cracking slightly as he buried his face in my neck. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him to me tightly as we knelt together on the threadbare carpet of my bedroom floor._

A soft, kind voice jolted me back to the present.

"Bella?" Esme asked, and I could tell it wasn't the first time she'd said it.

"Oh!" I blinked, startled. "Sorry – I don't know what got in to me there. I was out kind of late last night."

But she didn't look convinced. Her hazel eyes were searching, concerned as they locked on mine. "Sweetheart, you look as if you've seen a ghost."_ You're not far wrong, Esme._

I mustered up a weak smile. "I'm fine; just a bit hungover. I'd better go and work on the essay."

"You kids," Esme teased, although she was only three years older than me. "I'll see you Thursday, then."

"Sure," I told her, and turned away from the desk, wincing as the heavy book bag bashed into my side as I walked. I found myself a seat on the first floor and took out my books, arranging my workstation neatly and snapping my laptop open. However, my heart just wasn't in it. I let the pen fall from between my limp fingers, starting as it hit the wood of the desk hard. Several people working on the other side of the room looked up, annoyed at the interruption I'd caused. I blushed, trying to get a grip on myself by opening _Jude The Obscure_ and flicking through to the colourful post-its I'd left on important pages. Unfortunately, even the heartbreaking, skilful words of the story could not hold my attention, and they swam on the page, blending into one.

_What am I even doing with myself?_ I wondered. _What does my life even mean?_ These thoughts had been a common occurrence ever since I'd moved to London, even though I liked it there. I'd just applied suddenly, then upped sticks and moved. Before I even knew where I was, I was there. I enjoyed the course, and it was a good university, but I couldn't help remembering what I would have been doing if Edward were still alive. It was all set – we were going to Dartmouth together. I had a place on their prestigious English and Creative Writing course, which combined my love of great literature with my flair for writing. Since it had happened, however, I hadn't written a single word. Maybe it would have helped me if I could, but the words just wouldn't come. Where ideas had once poured from my head onto the page, they'd dried up like a riverbed in drought. My once fertile imagination had become as barren and empty as my life. I felt suddenly cold as everything I'd lost hit me once more.

Inexplicably, I noticed a sudden longing for Jasper. I couldn't explain it past the fact that talking to him had been the only time in the past two years that I'd been truly able to forget how much my life sucked. It had shocked me when he'd appeared out of nowhere, after that disastrous phone call. I hadn't meant to sound like an ice queen, but as soon as I heard his voice, my heart had exulted. And that wouldn't do, so I'd responded in my coolest tones. Ironically, that time it had been me putting the barriers up. His attempt to explain his awkward behaviour was actually kind of cute. I got the feeling that Jasper was a stranger to awkwardness, so I'd been somewhat flattered by his obvious nerves on the phone. Not that it had stopped me telling him where to go, in no uncertain terms.

I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him after that, and that was why I'd happened to visit _Underworld_ that night. I was quite happy sitting at the bar downing shots and vodka sodas, idly chatting to the barman from time to time. Even if it did remind me of Jasper a little too much. Then, out of nowhere, the man himself showed up, dressed in this amazing black shirt and jeans, his hair sexy and tousled, and I was caught off guard. Being around the man when I was sober was enough, to be around him drunk was downright dangerous. Despite my initial resistance, I decided to stop running away, and hear him out for a change. _And look where that got me. _A pleasant tingle ran down my spine as I recalled the kiss he'd given me. Drunk though I was, I could remember every moment of that kiss. Every touch of his lips on my own, every part of his taut body pressed up against mine...and then that slut had appeared and ruined everything.

Ihadn't trusted Jasper's supposed fascination with me to be any more than a passing thing, and perhaps I had been wise. Something about the encounter with that girl just didn't make sense, however. Why would he have propositioned another girl when I was right over there at the bar getting drinks? _Perhaps the girl knew him, or perhaps it wasn't what it looked like._ I knew at once I'd planted the seeds of doubt in my own mind, and they would be hard to shake off. _You should have waited for him to explain_. I shrugged that off, irritated that I'd even entertained such a thought. All I knew was, I didn't feel like the tough and confident Bella. I had no idea where she'd been of late – I was getting soft.

For the next few hours, I attempted to put it out of my mind and wrote my essay. I finished it by the early evening and headed home. Esme wasn't on the desk when I left, and I decided she must have gone home already. On the walk from the station to my house, my cell phone started buzzing. I pulled it from my pocket and sighed heavily as I saw the display: _Charlie Swan_. I really wasn't in the mood to take a call from my father, but he meant well. I flipped it open and held it to my ear.

"Bells?" said a familiar voice. Charlie and I hadn't spoken in a few weeks, so I might have expected him to call.

"Hey, Dad," I said wearily, resigned to taking this call.

"Hey," he said, sounding pleased to hear my voice. "How have you been? I haven't been able to reach you the past few times I've tried." A guilty knot twisted in my stomach at those words. He'd tried to call a few times in the week before, but every time I'd been in no state to deal with people and I'd evaded his attempts to contact me.

"Sorry, I've been really busy. Lots of studying, you know.'

"Studying? Good, good," he said, clearing his throat. "Things are okay, then?"

"Things are fine, Dad," I told him, but my hollow voice didn't exactly sound convincing. Even Charlie was bound to notice that.

"You're still seeing that, uh, counsellor, right?" he said awkwardly.

"Yeah, I am."

"And it helps?" I could tell by the tone of his voice that Charlie would have loved nothing more than to drop the subject immediately, but I guess he felt it was his duty as my Dad to check up on me.

"Sure," I lied smoothly, hoping my voice sounded convincing enough.

"Good," he said. "That's good." To my dismay, though, he didn't drop it. "Honey, I -" he added, sounding nervous. _Please don't bring it up. Please,_ I willed, but knew all too well that it was futile. "Look, I know it was really hard for you, losing Edward like that. But it was hard for me when you took off like that, with barely any warning. Reneé called me last week, asking how you were doing, and I had to tell her I honestly didn't know. Look, Bella – I don't even know how my own daughter's doing. I've been thinking, maybe it would be better for you to try and transfer to spend your last two years at the University of Seattle. That way you could live at home, you know. Might be better for you than being all the way over there."

I sighed heavily. By then, I was at the front door, and I unlocked the door and stumped up to my room. Charlie hadn't tried this line in a while, so I should have expected that he might have. He always tried to help at least, in his own inept way. The worst part had been when he'd tentatively suggested that I date dorky Jacob Black from the La Push reservation down the coastline. To me, Jacob was just a childhood playmate, and it had been just five months since Edward had died. He was a nice kid, sure, but not my type and I was in no way ready to even contemplate seeing somebody else. Charlie had obviously thought it was just puppy love. But it wasn't. I _loved_ him, through the good, the bad, the laughter and the tears. It was too bad that ultimately, the tears had won out.

Charlie hadn't meant to hurt me, I was sure, but he'd never liked Edward and he must have thought that I was over it, seeing as I'd hidden my grief well for those first few months. That sort of thing was precisely why I hadn't told him until the last moment that I was moving to London, even though it had hurt me to see his face crumple when I told him. I did miss my father, I really did. I missed doing my homework in front of the baseball on TV while he watched it; I missed his accounts of his stupid fishing trips with Billy Black and Harry Clearwater; I missed it all, however annoying. With emotional stuff, Charlie was clumsy as hell, but he was sweet. I appreciated his awkward, stilted efforts to see what was going on with me. Even though I could never tell him how I was really doing. He'd freak out, or try and have me committed or something. When it came to my father, I always kept things on a strictly need-to-know basis, and I knew that was best.

"Bella?" he asked, prompting me to answer.

"Look, Charlie, I'm fine here," I finally snapped. He hated being called Charlie, but at that moment I didn't care. "I don't want to talk about it." There was a pause at the other end of the line.

"Well, okay then," he replied, sounding unsure.

"How's Billy these days?" I asked quickly, hoping he'd take the bait and change the subject. Thankfully he did, and I heard all about the goings on at La Push. Jacob was reportedly training to be a mechanic – _like I cared_. I gritted my teeth and listened to him prattle on about various crap. He sounded downright cheerful when I hung up, the earlier part of the conversation forgotten. I couldn't help a fond smile as I threw the phone on top of my comforter. Charlie did try his best to be a father to me, however haphazardly. I dimly registered the fact he'd told me that Reneé had asked after me, but it barely pinged my radar, though she was my mother. We'd grown apart so much in recent years. Still, I felt I should give her a call sometime soon.

My fingers twitched towards the phone, finding the number I sought and pressing dial. Predictably, I lost my nerve and frantically pressed the 'end call' button before it had even connected. I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn't waited until Jasper Whitlock would have seen the evidence of my pathetic obsession with him on his phone. It was dinnertime, but I didn't really feel like eating. I put on an inane comedy show and sat there, frozen at my own stupidity. I was in way over my head.

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** I know that Bella backslid a bit, but I figured that was more realistic. For sufferers of self-harm, it's not always as simple as just wanting to stop, it's a habit as difficult to break as any other addiction. For all those who predicted Esme's invite - kudos to you, but I'm not that subtle, so I left clues ;). More soon, but just bear with me while I complete my degree.**

**For info on teasers, updates and my general ramblings, don't forget to follow me on Twitter: glitteratiglue. Check out my blog for the visual and written teasers before the next chapter. I've also had a lot of fun creating Polyvore outfit sets for this story - check my profile for the links. Thanks for reading, and keep on reviewing! xxx  
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	8. Instincts

**Exams are over and my degree is officially finished! I'm moving house in two weeks and job hunting so again, bear with me. Having more time to write is awesome, though. I've been trying to write ahead with this so hopefully you'll never have to wait too long to read another chapter.  
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**I hope those of you who donated to Fics4Nashville enjoyed the exclusive ICF outtake I posted there. Let me know if you read it and enjoyed! Reviews and recs are amazing, by the way, and I appreciate them more than I can express in words.**

**** As ever, many thanks to my good friend and beta, SunKing for her skill and patience. Also, thanks to SydneyTwiMum, the sweetest girl, for pre-reading, and to AlverdineFF for her encouragement and sense of humour. ****

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_**Song: Walter Reed – Michael Penn**_

**Chapter 8: Instincts**

**JPOV**

_Stepping into the room, my footsteps barely made a sound on the plush carpet, but I was sure she was aware of my presence. Apparently, she was sleeping – her eyes closed and her body still – but I knew better. Quietly, I undressed, folded my clothes on the chair, and pulled on a pair of pyjama pants._

"_Hey," I murmured as I climbed into bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her from behind. I tried not to notice that she stiffened at the contact._

"_Hi," she replied quietly. "It's really late, Jasper."_

"_I know," I said, knowing that I had to tread carefully. "I'm sorry, darlin'."_

"_You always are," she said, shrugging out of my grip and moving to the very edge of the bed. In response, I shifted closer to her, but she let out an exasperated sigh. "You stink of booze."_

"_Please don't be like this," I heard myself say, even though I had a feeling it was futile. "For fuck's sake, you know it's killing me too. You think it isn't? Why the hell did you think I went out tonight? Even when I sleep, I dream about it."_

_I heard a quiet sob and realised that she was crying. I pulled her into my arms, and for a few perfect moments, the woman I loved let me hold her. Holding her to my chest, I let a few silent tears leak from my own eyes when she couldn't see, and blinked them away just as quickly._

"_I can't stop thinking about it," she confessed, and she looked so small, her knees drawn up to her chest with her head resting on them. I ran my hand through her hair, trying to soothe her. Tentatively, I drew her chin upwards and placed a soft kiss on her lips. She was so beautiful._

Even if she hated me.

_Though I doubted she could hate me more than I hated myself. To my great surprise, she ran her hands over my bare back, digging the nails in hard enough to hurt. The next second, her lips found mine in a hungry, desperate kiss full of all the things we couldn't say to one another, and I felt my arousal growing in my pants. I let her wind her slim, lithe body around mine, trying not to get my hopes up since we hadn't made love in over five months. She stretched her arms up so I could pull her nightgown over her head, and I continued to press kisses all over her body._

"_I love you," I whispered, gently laying her down upon the bed._

_Looking up at me, something in her face changed, and she froze. "Jasper, wait."_

Oh God. What now? "_What is it?" I asked._

"_I don't – want to anymore," she muttered, sitting up and taking her discarded nightgown from the other side of the bed. "I'm sorry. Ever since – I just can't. It's like I'm disconnected from the world. I don't feel. I don't think. And nothing matters."_

_She turned over in bed, facing away from me, and collapsed into shaking sobs. This time, I stayed where I was, reeling from what she'd just told me. The familiar feelings of rejection and self-loathing washed over me. It was the same routine all the time. This was the only time she'd let it get this far, however. Normally, she'd pretend to be asleep, or shrug off my advances pretending she was tired, or feeling sick. I'd punish myself for the rest of my life. How long would she punish me for? That very lonely thought saw me through till morning as I lay silently, clutching the comforter to myself and stealing glances at her as she slept, wishing and hoping that something would change._

I jolted awake, with my body bathed in cold sweat and my heart crashing in my chest. Trying to catch my breath, I squinted into the darkness, finally making sense of my surroundings. My dream had felt so real, I'd expected to wake up clutching that lilac comforter that had once been so familiar to me. Perhaps dream was the wrong word for it; nightmare seemed more appropriate. As I sat up, my stomach whirled with unexpected nausea and I ran, barely making it to the bathroom before I threw up violently. I continued retching long after the contents of my stomach had been expelled.

I slumped to the floor, shaking, and tried to get a grip on myself. Leaning against the rim of the toilet bowl, I gasped. The hollow, clenching emptiness in my stomach echoed the jangled, discordant thoughts that cluttered my brain. The shadowy memory of the former life I'd lost was particular painful today – more so than usual. I was well-practised at blocking out unpleasant thoughts and feelings, but it was as if once I let one feeling out, everything started to come in. The feeling in question was the knowledge that I'd become hopelessly preoccupied with Bella.

_Where is she? And what is she doing right now? _I wondered. Hopefully she wasn't waking up in someone else's arms. Several days had passed since that unfortunate night when I'd managed to screw everything up. Fucking ridiculously, that thought stirred up a fresh wave of jealousy. I didn't know in what sense I meant it, but I wanted Bella as my own. _Mine. _Eventually I managed to peel myself off the bathroom floor and take a shower, but my muscles felt like lead that morning and every movement was difficult.

Surprisingly, Bella wasn't one of my shower fantasies that morning – I felt way too messed up this morning to even think about jacking off. After chain-smoking three cigarettes, I finally felt able to search out some breakfast. I had the day off work, and little to do until the dinner party at Esme's house that night . I was actually looking forward to that quite a lot as I'd missed the person who was probably my best friend besides Pete. Feeling slightly guilty, I realised I hadn't seen her in about three months. I could be such an jerk sometimes when I got into one of my emo phases.

Oddly enough, it never pissed Esme off when I would suddenly go incommunicado for weeks on end, seeing nobody except my workmates. Of course, she knew what haunted my daydreams and nightmares, and she understood. She didn't pity me; she merely offered simple acceptance, even though it was for something I wasn't even ready to accept myself. Since my one moment of weakness where I'd told her everything, we'd never once discussed it, but I had the feeling she was waiting for me to bring it up again. She'd requested that I come over early and hang out with her while she prepared the food, which meant she probably wanted to talk to me about something.

I decided I was feeling too shaky to go for a run that morning, so I settled for rearranging my already obsessively neat apartment. Digging to the back of the hall closet, I found a couple of boxes still there that I'd never even unpacked. Heaving the first one out, I found a small, blue wooden box inside it, taped up. Realising what it was, I dropped it like I'd just placed my hand on hot coals. That I'd never meant to throw out, but I couldn't open it just then. I might never be able to open it again. I took the little box and put it carefully on the floor, with a mind to put it somewhere safe. As I rooted through the large cardboard box further, I discovered a ton of old crap that I obviously just hadn't bothered to throw out.

There were crumpled books, old payslips, bank statements, and, bizarrely, a dusty Atlanta Braves sweatshirt. I still watched baseball games on ESPN from time to time, but it was a long time since I'd been into it in a big way. Football, what I used to know as 'soccer', was practically a religion in the UK, and as such, it had become my sport of choice. Shoving the sweatshirt to the side, I reached deeper into the box, which revealed a stack of textbooks. Titles like _Field and Wave Electromagnetics, Engineering Electromagnetics _and _Foundations of Antenna Theory & Techniques_ jumped out at me, and I was thrown. I could have sworn that I'd given all of these books away, but no – there they were. Fuck me, the universe was bent on kicking my ass. After putting everything back in, I shoved the box back into the deepest recesses of the closet. I wasn't able to get rid of it, but I didn't want to do anything else with it either.

Over the next few hours, I defrosted the freezer, got halfway through a novel, and rearranged my entire CD collection into a new filing system, but it wasn't enough to take my mind off things. Wanting a better distraction, I opted to walk the half-hour to Esme and Carlisle's apartment in the late afternoon. Outside, it was bright but cold- truly revitalising weather. As I walked, the metal music and garish market stalls faded away, and edgy, metropolitan Camden became the lush green hills and quiet streets of Hampstead Village. I buzzed the number of the apartment inside the white Victorian house and was let in straight away.

Esme embraced me with a kiss on the cheek and I hugged her back, breathing in her calming scent of vanilla and soap. As she showed me into the kitchen, I instantly felt more comfortable than I had all that day. There was something about Esme Platt that just put me at ease, however I was feeling. In that sense, she was definitely a good person for me to be around at that moment.

"It's lovely to see you, Jasper," she told me, putting a hand on my shoulder and steering me towards the kitchen-dining room. "Would you like something to eat or drink?"

I shook my head, still feeling a bit queasy from earlier. Before I knew it, she'd seated me at the counter and handed me a peeler.

"You wouldn't mind peeling those potatoes for me, would you?" Her expression was beseeching, and I couldn't suppress a hearty laugh.

"And what did your last slave die of?" I teased, deftly catching the peeler that she threw toward me.

"We're old friends, and as such, you know I've got a right to boss you around." Esme grinned at me.

"Seems fair." I began to peel the potatoes almost mechanically, taking out my frustration on their skins. In no time at all I'd assembled a relatively sizeable pile of peelings. "So what feast are you making for tonight, then?"

She giggled. "Jazz, you're far too complimentary about my cooking."

"Hey, why do you think I'm here?" I quipped. She hurled a potato at me, which I dodged.

"Well, we're starting with a halloumi, fennel and olive salad, followed by roast leg of lamb with garlic and rosemary, sesame potatoes, roasted root vegetables, and a white chocolate and berry cheesecake to finish."

I had to admit, that sounded pretty amazing. Another reason why I liked about going to Esme's was that she was a really good cook. I wasn't too bad myself, but didn't always bother to waste that skill on myself. "Sounds great," I said.

I watched her flit about the kitchen, breaking white chocolate into a bowl to melt it, stirring and chopping things, and marvelled at how content and peaceful she seemed. It would be nice to be like that. Admittedly, sometimes I was, but there was always a current of darkness beneath the surface, threatening to sweep me away.

"Did I tell you we've booked the church?" she said conversationally, emptying my rapidly-increasing pile of potato peelings into the garbage. "We're getting married at St-John-at-Hampstead on the 5th September."

"You bagged the white whale?" I squeezed her arm affectionately, knowing how much it meant to Esme to have snagged her dream church.

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's such a gorgeous church, and they almost never have openings. Luckily, there was a cancellation." Her tranquil expression slipped a bit. "Then again, not so lucky for someone else," she said softly.

"I have told you before that you're way too nice for your good, haven't I?" I said, shaking my head.

She punched me playfully on the arm and then arranged the peeled potatoes in a roasting dish. Esme worked with such speed that she evidently didn't need to give me any more tasks to do. I remained seated on the stool at the breakfast bar, chatting idly to her as she carried on preparing the ingredients for the night's meal. I looked up at the clock and saw it was six already.

"The guests are arriving at seven," she told me, adjusting the oven temperature slightly. "Carlisle'll be home in a sec, I should think."

"Anyone interesting?" I asked.

"A couple of the medical trainees from Carlisle's team, Heidi and Demetri, and one other. You'll have to wait and see." She smiled at me then in a somewhat strange way, and I got the feeling that she knew something I didn't. Oddly enough, I had a sudden urge to spill my guts and tell her about the situation with Bella. I wasn't sure if I should, though.

"Please tell me you're not trying to set me up?" I told her sternly, raising an eyebrow in mock horror. It didn't surprise me when she blushed, a nervous little giggle escaping her. I echoed it with a deep throaty chuckle of my own. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Jazz, just hear me out first," she began, her face still pink. "Now, this wasn't the reason for extending the invitation to her, but I did invite a girl that you might like. It didn't really occur to me at the time, but you and her might get on well. She likes books a lot – probably the only person I've seen who reads as much as you do. And she's interesting, and really sweet."

_Argh! Esme..._ The woman was a Machiavellian schemer, disguised in a Cath Kidston apron. I shook my head, knowing that there was very little I could do about this. "What's her name?"

"Wait and see," she repeated with a mysterious smile. "I just don't want you having any preconceptions about her. Give her a chance. It's not a matchmaking thing; I just think you might hit it off seeing as you have similar interests."

I sighed inwardly. However well-meaning Esme was being, I just couldn't get excited about meeting this girl. Maybe I just wasn't in the mood to meet someone new – oh, who was I kidding? She wasn't Bella, and that was the crux of the matter at hand. I watched Esme study the newly set cheesecake with mixed berries, lost in my own thoughts.

"There's this other girl," I suddenly blurted out, my mouth opening before I could stop it.

A blueberry slipped from her fingers, making a dent in the middle of the cake. She frowned, moving the offending item to the right side so as not to disrupt the pattern she'd painstakingly created. After a moment, she looked up.

"What girl?" I could understand her confusion. In all the years I'd known her, she'd rarely heard me discuss the women I'd been involved with. I'd never felt the need, as they usually meant nothing to me.

"I met her a week or so ago."

"Met...?" Esme raised an eyebrow.

"I slept with her," I said.

"Well, you do have a bit of a reputation for being the terror of the ladies, Jazz." She laughed.

I sighed, pretending to be offended. "You make it sound like I'm the biggest man-whore in London."

"And you know I'm joking," she retorted, smoothing a palette knife over the cake's surface. "So come on, tell me more about her. There's obviously something about this girl if she caught your attention like this."

I was caught out. I didn't think I could have put it better than she had. That was the thing about best friends- sometimes they knew you better than you knew yourself. "She came into the bar when I was working," I explained. "She was on her own, and I wasn't the only guy to notice her when she walked in. Pretty face, long dark hair, great figure, and she carried herself really confidently for a girl on her own." Esme nodded, waiting for me to continue. I bit my lip, feeling slightly uncomfortable, but I wanted to tell her for some reason. I hoped her insightful mind might be of some value in that instance. "I asked her to have a drink with me, seeing as she was on her own and the bar was quiet."

"And then you ladled the Southern charm on thick?" She'd stopped fussing with the cake now, and was paying her full attention to my confession. A mildly amused expression was playing on her face, which I might have expected. I wasn't going to get through the conversation without being ribbed at least a little.

"I may have done so a bit...darlin'," I teased. "I can't really remember what we talked about, but she just fucking captivated me. She was a bit younger than me, probably only about twenty or so."

Esme's eyebrows shot up.

"I said twenty, not fifteen!" I protested. She nodded, suppressing a smile, and waved her hand.

"Go on?"

"Obviously, I took her home after I closed up Phoenix and we...yeah. But that's the thing. It was so different. It felt – intimate." The words stuck like treacle in my throat as I spoke them, each one harder to say than the last. Explaining that was really fucking embarrassing, and I wouldn't have said it to anyone other than her.

It was a mark of the strength of our friendship that Esme didn't blush, or laugh at me. She just came and sat down on the stool next to me. "What happened afterwards?"

"I was a jerk. The way she made me feel – it freaked me out, and so I just shut down."

"Jasper!" Her gaze was reproving. "What the hell did you say to her?"

"Nothing!" I had no idea why I was getting defensive, because my actions weren't excusable. But I was still pissed off at myself for behaving that way. "I let her stay on the couch."

Esme rolled her eyes. "How charitable. At least you didn't kick her out on the street."

"She'd gone when I woke up, but I couldn't stop thinking about her. I called her a few days later to apologise, but she wasn't interested."

"I'm not surprised," she murmured under her breath. She had no intention of letting me off lightly, that was clear. "I'm guessing the sex must have been, um, pretty good for you to bother calling her back again," she observed shrewdly. It was unusual for her to be this candid, but the situation demanded it to an extent. Her last statement riled me up somewhat, even though I knew that was her intention in saying it. I exhaled impatiently.

"It wasn't just about the sex. With her, I felt alive."

"I've been waiting for you to say that," Esme said dryly. "I knew that this girl was different as soon as you mentioned her. Do you really think there's something there?" She was trying to maintain her cool demeanour to show me that she didn't approve of how I'd acted towards Bella afterwards, but the cracks were starting to show. Her eyes were shining with a barely-concealed excitement.

"I don't know." I sighed heavily. "Maybe I'm imagining it. That's not all, either. I get the feeling that something really terrible happened to her. I don't know if it's worse, or whatever, than my stuff." I said the last part really awkwardly, and a moment of silence passed. Esme reached over and clasped my hand.

"I think there are few worse things than your 'stuff'," she said quietly. "Perhaps that's one of the reasons you're drawn to her. It feels like she understands."

"Like I say, I could be imagining it."

Esme shook her head. "I don't think so, Jazz. You always know what people are thinking, how they're feeling, sometimes before they know it themselves. Trust your instincts. If you really can't stop thinking about her, don't give up. I'm not suggesting that you stalk her, but contact her again. See if she changes her mind. Please be careful, though - if she's already vulnerable she doesn't need you hurting her too. Be sure that it's what you want."

"I know," I said, and I felt like I would burst with the shame I felt over the state Bella had probably ended up in just days ago, after seeing me with Jane. That sounded incredibly arrogant, but I just meant that she was hurting already, and I could have made it worse. I didn't know if I had the heart to tell Esme about that. There was no need to disappoint her even more than I already had. We sat in silence for a minute or two, and then she got up to check on the potatoes.

"I don't mean to be so interfering, you know," she said, closing the oven door. "I really did have the best intentions when I invited my guest tonight."

I looked up and smiled at her, letting her know all was forgotten. "It's okay. I'm sure if you like her, this chick's pretty cool regardless. I'm sure I'll be able to talk to her in a friendship sense."

She nodded approvingly, and just then, I heard a key turn in the lock of the front door.

"I'm home!" called a voice from the hallway. It was a familiar voice, with a light English accent. I got to my feet as Carlisle walked in, looking exhausted but happy.

"Hey, Jasper," he grinned, clapping me on the back. "Good to see you."

"Great to see you too, Carlisle. How are you doing?" I replied.

"I'm great, just tired. Dermatology isn't as slow as you'd think, despite the fact we almost never get any emergencies." He pulled a face. "How's the bar these days? I should get down there for a drink again soon."

"Sure," I told him. "It's the same as always, really. Pete and I make inappropriate jokes all night, Charlotte busts our chops." Carlisle laughed heartily. Esme had come forward, and he kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Dr. Cullen," she murmured adoringly, as his arms wound round her waist. I looked away, not wanting to intrude on a secret moment between lovers.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have come home earlier " he said, releasing her.

"I understand," she smiled. "They need you there."

"It smells amazing," he said, and I nodded in assent. "She's been planning the menu for a week, you know. It's occupied her every waking moment," he added teasingly, and she smacked him playfully on the arm.

"Now _you're_ in trouble," she told him smartly. "You'd better behave yourself if you want some of this dinner."

"Watch out for her, Jasper," Carlisle told me in a mock-serious voice. "I'd better go and get out of these work clothes, be back in a couple of minutes."

"Dude, I'm not really into the whole nudist thing," I joked. "I mean, if you really insist..." I made to start unbuttoning my shirt. Esme giggled.

"I missed him," Carlisle told her, laughing.

"Boys." She shook her head fondly as he left the kitchen. She unfolded a white tablecloth and spread it over the dining table, smoothing it carefully. I took some cutlery from the drawer and helped her, laying it out over the napkins she'd folded.

"You've got a good man there."

"I have," she smiled. Unexpectedly, she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. "I really missed you too, Jasper. Don't stay away so long again."

"Yes, ma'am." I nodded.

Esme went to get changed and I walked over to the window, looking down upon the tree-lined street below. Night had fallen, the inky darkness illuminated by the street lights. I sighed. That conversation had helped, somewhat. I'd realised that not contacting Bella wasn't an option, even if she didn't want to know. I was willing to try, even if I'd have to work hard to get back into her good graces. As for the dinner, I hoped the other guests wouldn't bore the ass off me, particularly the 'set-up' girl. Carlisle returned and poured us two whiskies. We sat sipping our drinks and talking for a minute or two, then the buzzer sounded. He buzzed in the first guests.

"I'll get it!" Esme trilled, flying along the hallway in a polka dot dress and heels. Heidi and Demetri came in, and we were introduced. They seemed friendly enough, but I surmised that tonight was going to be all couples apart from me and the other guest. There was nothing I could do about it, though.

The buzzer sounded again and Esme got to her feet, letting the final guest into the building and then heading to the front door. I heard a muffled female voice in the hallway, combined with Esme's high, excited tones. Curiosity got the better of me and I peeked round the corner of the kitchen down, looking down the hallway. Esme was there with a girl in a red dress, who was hanging her coat up with her back to me. The girl had long dark hair and I couldn't help noticing that from what I could see, she was attractive. Not that it really mattered to me, but still. I stepped out of the shadows, and Esme heard my footsteps.

"Oh, Jasper," she said, coming towards me. "I'd like you to meet Bella Swan."

However, I already knew it was her. At the sound of my name, she'd whipped round, her mouth open in shock.

_The universe has got one sick sense of humour, _I thought.

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**I know there were several of you who guessed that would happen! It was nice to include Esme, I love her & think she's very underused both in the books and in the FF world. Thanks to those who alert and fave, and especially those who review! Reviews make me ridiculously happy, and I will always reply to them whenever possible :). As always, Polyvore outfit links are on my profile, and do check out my revamped blog, link also on profile .I put a lot of effort into this story, and it's nice to know that people appreciate it. I love you all and I hope you're enjoying the course this story's taking. Thanks for reading! xxx**


	9. Warmth

**Another chapter! I hope you all enjoy the dinner party in action, finally *grins*. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I know it took a little while, but as always, RL gets in the way. I'm currently moving out of my house which is stressful and very tiring, lol! I've also just graduated magna cum laude in Political Science, with a top-grade thesis, so I'm really proud of myself. This story has been a little slow to update at times, but I'm sure you all understand why. I've unfortunately sustained a fucker foot injury which means I'll have to move back to my Mother's place for a month, but that should hopefully mean lots more writing time.  
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**ATTENTION: I still have a oneshot left for sale in The Fandom Gives Back: Eclipse Edition. It'll be a minimum of 3K words. Can be related to something I've already written, original, or whatever - the winners will decide. My auction is First Come First Served, and my oneshots are priced at $15 each. FCFS means that the first person who signs up to buy my offerings will get a oneshot written by me. They can decide the content and agree on a delivery date with me (they will receive it at least two weeks before I post it online). It's all for a good cause, Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation, so please dig deep - you can tell me what you want me to write about! Visit the website for more details - www . thefandomgivesback . com . (remove spaces).  
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**** Thanks go to SunKing, AlverdineFF and SydneyTwiMum as always. A special mention goes to the awesome venis-envy, who pimped my story, left me awesome reviews AND bought one of my FGB offerings. Thankyou 87english for buying an FGB oneshot too!  
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_**Song: Crushcrushcrush - Paramore**_

**Chapter 9: Warmth  
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**BPOV**

"Bella!" Esme trilled, pulling open the door and giving me a hug. "Please come in," she added, standing back for me to enter. I stepped over the threshold feeling more than a little nervous, wobbling slightly on the stupid high heels I could hardly walk in. It had been a while since I'd socialised in a group of people, and I hoped I'd be able to handle it. Unbuttoning my coat, I looked around to see a softly carpeted, dimly lit hall with pale beige walls. There was a small table with one of those old-fashioned dial phones and a vase of peonies that were exuding a pleasant scent. It was a very adult sort of apartment, but still whimsical - much like Esme herself.

"Your apartment's beautiful," I said, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Thank you!" She laughed lightly. "More to my taste than Carlisle's, I'm afraid. But he doesn't really mind. He knows how I love designing things so he pretty much lets me have free rein with this place." Shrugging the coat off my shoulders, I hung it over my arm, still feeling like a little kid who'd been allowed to attend the grown-ups party. "I love your dress, by the way, sweetie," Esme told me. "You can hang your coat up here." I adjusted my red wrap dress, trying to suppress my self-conscious nature. _Oh, God. _I had to go and meet strangers. I hooked the coat on the peg, vaguely registering the soft sound of footsteps behind me.

"Oh, Jasper!" I suddenly heard Esme say, and I swear to God my heart stopped. _Jasper?_ _But wait...it couldn't be, could it? _I turned round just as she said, "I'd like you to meet Bella Swan."

_No way. _

My mouth fell open and I blinked furiously, sure that my eyes were deceiving me. There was no way that could be Jasper Whitlock standing there, looking far too sexy for his own good in a bright plaid shirt and his signature black jeans, all lean muscle and just-got-out-of-bed hair. I was still gaping from the surprise, and I hastily closed my mouth, feeling foolish. _What do I say?_ I wondered if I should let on that we knew each other already, but something told me that wouldn't be a good idea. I finally got up the courage to meet his eyes and saw he was doing his best goldfish impression, apparently also reeling from the shock of seeing me at the apartment.

Deciding to feign ignorance, I opened my lips, preparing to speak. The next instant, we both simultaneously spluttered, "Nice to meet you," and I fought the urge to laugh. I took the hand he offered and shook it, trying not to meet his eyes, as I was sure I'd blush. Unfortunately, that meant I was looking downwards. _Shit! Maybe he thinks I'm staring at his crotch? _I ripped my gaze upwards to his face, and I could feel my cheeks reddening. He smirked, as if he somehow knew what I was thinking, but I kept my face impassive as I was still in Esme's line of sight. The latter was regarding us with a curious look, but she must have decided it was nothing, because she moved forward and put her hand on my arm.

"Now that you two are introduced, let's go through," she said breezily. I made to follow her into the kitchen, and Jasper walked behind me. Before I could get my foot through the door frame, however, his hand connected with my hip, pulling me back. His fingers were warm, even through the material, and in spite of myself, my heart fluttered. I was suddenly regretting my decision to wear such a cleavage-enhancing dress.

"Bella?" he muttered. I turned round, exasperated. Given that we'd started this ridiculous charade, him trying to engage me in conversation outside in the hall wasn't exactly going to help matters.

"What?" I hissed, shrugging out of his grasp.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in soft tones. His eyes were burning into me, but I managed to remain cool and aloof.

"Apparently we have a mutual friend," I whispered back, avoiding looking into his eyes.

"I didn't know you knew Esme," he said, sounding confused.

"She's my librarian," I told him, rolling my eyes. I could feel my body start to respond to being so close to him, and I hated myself for it. Comprehension dawned on his face.

"Oh..." He trailed off.

"Now, I suggest we get inside before everyone starts wondering what the fuck we're doing in here," I said calmly, picking up my heart-shaped clutch from where I'd left it on the table.

Sure enough, Esme instantly reappeared, looking puzzled. "There are you are! Why didn't the two of you come in?"

"I, uh, I...dropped my purse and all the change fell out, so Jasper helped me pick it up," I said, hastily improvising. He raised an eyebrow, but I pretended not to notice.

Esme shook her head fondly. "Oh, Bella – you're such a klutz! It was nice of him to help you, though." She nodded at Jasper and then spoke again, addressing him. "Let me tell you, Jazz, nobody can manage to have an accident like this girl. One time she came into the library and one of the smaller bookshelves collapsed on top of her."

"I was fine," I countered with a small smile. "Esme just had to dig me out."

Jasper chuckled nervously, and I cleared my throat, trying to indicate we should move.

"Come and meet everyone, Bella," said Esme, putting her arm round my waist and gently steering me inside. I was sure Jasper followed, but I didn't dare look back. My head was reeling from what had just happened. How dare Jasper be there again, when I hadn't expected him to be? And this was totally different to the previous Friday where I'd been at a club in his neck of the woods. I hadn't anticipated him having any connection with Esme – why would I have? Seeing him standing there in her hallway had shocked me to the core. Clearly, he'd experienced the same reaction, but that didn't make me feel any better. It was going to be a long night.

Esme led me into her spacious kitchen-diner which was as elegantly furnished as the hallway in soft, muted colours. She gestured towards an empty seat at a large, circular table, where several people were already sitting. Jasper took the remaining seat opposite.

"Bella, I'd like you to meet Heidi," Esme nodded to a breathtaking flame-haired woman, "and Demetri," a dark-haired man. The two of them smiled kindly at me, and I felt a little less awkward. I realised she still hadn't introduced me to the final member of our party – a tall, remarkably attractive blond man with laughing eyes. I surmised it was Carlisle. "And last but not least, my fiancé, Carlisle."

"It's wonderful to meet you finally, Bella," he said with an genuine smile, reaching across the table to shake my hand. In spite of myself, I smiled back. I could see what Esme meant when she talked about him so adoringly. He was gorgeous, and seemed incredibly nice to boot. She was lucky. "I've heard a lot about you." I was briefly distracted by the sound of Jasper choking on a sip of his beer, but I chose to ignore this.

"All good, I hope?" I said to Carlisle, and he nodded.

"Kind, pretty and intelligent were the words used, I believe," he replied. I blushed. Esme was clearly more complimentary about me than I deserved.

"Of course! I'd be bored at work right now if it weren't for Bella," Esme said, coming over to my side. "A lot of the staff are on vacation, so I'm often on my own. Wine?" she added, offering a bottle of something white and expensive-looking. I nodded, and she poured me a glass. I took it and gulped down a sip, grateful for a distraction.

"So Heidi, what do you do?" I asked, starting with the inevitable question. For the next hour or so, the conversation rumbled on, full of funny hospital anecdotes from the three doctors at the table. It was a perfectly pleasant dinner party, helped by the fact that Esme's food was absolutely delicious – an amazing salad, and then a main course of lamb with all the accoutrements. Jasper was curiously quiet, but I kept catching him furtively stealing glances at me. It was really starting to irritate me, for whenever his gaze was fixed upon me, I couldn't help but look back.

My eyes flickered across the table, and sure enough, he was staring at me. I wrinkled my brow, glaring at him, but he only smiled. In spite of myself, I couldn't help returning the smile, suppressing a small giggle that threatened to burst from me. I had to admit, this was kind of funny, pretending that we didn't know each other. It was then that I caught Esme watching our exchange. She was laughing and listening to something Demetri was saying, but her eyes were focused on Jasper and me. Clearly, she was shrewder than she often let on. In fact, I knew that because of the time I came to the library feeling depressed as hell, and she'd noticed. I hadn't fooled her for a second, and I worried that I might not be able to fool her this time, either. Having said that, she probably thought we were just flirting with one another.

I speared a forkful of lamb, my mind whirring with possibilities, and I eventually came to one. I knew this wouldn't have been the only reason she invited me, as we were friends to all intents and purposes, but something told me that Jasper and I had been invited together for a purpose. Looking around the table, I noted that it was all couples. _Oh God, how embarrassing._

"Jasper?" Esme's voice as she addressed him cut into my thoughts. "You're quiet tonight."

Jasper shrugged. "Sorry, I guess I'm just tired." He leaned forward, his chair scraping slightly on the carpet. Esme got up to collect the plates, and I leapt to my feet with a mind to help her.

She waved a hand. "Honestly, honey, it's fine, you don't have to."

"No, I want to," I insisted, and she acquiesced, indicating a stack of plates she'd left there. I picked them up and followed her into the kitchen area, setting the dirty plates down on the counter. Handing them to her one by one, I watched her load them into the dishwasher, glad to have escaped from the table for a brief moment.

"Are you having a good time?" she asked.

I nodded fervently. "Definitely – the food's amazing, and your friends are all very nice. Carlisle's great."

"Thank you! I'm glad," she said, yawning. "Dear me, I'm tired. Trying to be a gracious hostess takes it out of you."

"I can imagine," I told her, my gaze shifting to the table.

"Heidi and Demetri are pretty focused on their work, but they're nice people. I know it gets to be a bit of a 'doctors' club between the three of them, but I'm used to it, I supposed. And yeah, he is. We've just booked the church for the wedding. If you're free on the 5th September, I'd love for you to come."

"I'll put it in my diary." I smiled. Glancing over at the table, I noted that Jasper had managed to seamlessly engage himself in conversation with the other three, and seemed to be telling some sort of story. All their faces were fixed on him. The man certainly had charisma. Turning my attention back to Esme, I inwardly groaned when she shot me a knowing smile. I breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't immediately follow it up with a comment, however.

"So, how long have you know Jasper?" I asked, absently twisting my hair round my fingers. She looked up from where she was stacking wine glasses in the dishwasher.

"About three years, I think," she said airily, rinsing her hands in the sink. "I met him at a book reading and we just hit it off." She smiled fondly at the memory. "He's attractive, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers," I replied, trying to inject some humour to make my questions more innocuous. She laughed.

"Nor would most girls. But there's more to him than you'd think. Sure, he works in a bar, but he's got an impressive book collection and he's well-educated. I don't think a lot of people know that, though."

My mind recalled an apartment with white walls and wooden floors, where there were glass bookshelves crammed with books. Yes, I knew that Jasper liked books. On the surface, I laughed, but her words had hit me like a dart. "If he's so well-educated, why does he work in a bar?" My interest was piqued. I'd known from the moment I'd met him that he was intelligent, but this was more than I'd expected.

"You'd have to ask him that," Esme said slowly, casting her eyes to the floor. She looked up, and to my relief, she didn't seem angry. "Look, he likes to play the confident, cocky guy, but underneath it all he's a real sweetheart. He looks after me. Don't tell him I said that, though – he'd be mortified."

"Everyone has different sides to them," I agreed, nodding. "Is he seeing anyone at the minute?" I couldn't resist adding.

She paused. "Oh, I'm not sure, really. He's not exactly a relationship guy, in my experience."

I nodded, at the same time wondering why she couldn't just say no. I guessed that he just didn't like talking about girls, which was probably good as it meant that he wouldn't have told her about me. _Why would he have anyway, Bella? Don't flatter yourself__._ I was irritated at myself for thinking that Jasper would have been bothered enough about me to tell her. Hardly. Although, it wasn't like I wanted anyone to know, either. What had happened between the two of us was complicated, something I couldn't begin to explain even if I tried.

"He doesn't seem like the type."

"So what about you, Bella?" she went on, smoothly changing the subject. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Er, not really", I replied nervously.

Esme clapped a hand over her mouth, giggling. "I'm sorry. I'm being so nosey, aren't I? It must be the wine..."

I shook my head, deciding I might as well be honest. I couldn't tell her that it was Jasper, but perhaps she'd have some useful insight into the situation. "No, it's fine. There was this one guy, recently, but I don't think that'll go anywhere." I could feel my heart sinking as I admitted the words I hadn't been able to even say to myself. There was no evidence that Jasper Whitlock cared for me at all, except in a superficial, sexual way. Sure, he wanted to fuck me, but I doubted that he wanted more. And for the first time since losing Edward, I realised that I did. One-night stands weren't enough any more. I wanted someone who loved and cared for me. "I just wish he cared," I admitted, unable to stop the tears from welling up in my eye sockets. I frantically blinked them away, glad were out of the line of sight of the guests.

Esme patted my hand sympathetically. "I'm sorry. Guys can be jerks."

"This one really got to me, though. I didn't mean it to be more than like, a one-night thing, but he was just so cold and off-putting. He just shut down."

I couldn't fathom Esme's reaction. Her hazel eyes instantly widened.

"What?" I asked her, confused.

"Shoot! Just realised I forgot to take the cheesecake out of the refrigerator," she replied calmly, but she looked thrown. I had no idea what I'd said. Maybe I'd over-shared? "It needs to sit for a minute. Why don't you go and sit back down? I'll be back in a minute."

I started to shuffle back to the table, but then she called me back. "Bella!" I came back into the kitchen area.

"What is it?"

"Sorry, I just got a bit distracted for a sec. I hate it when I forget my timings," she said, turning out a berry cheesecake onto a plate. She looked entirely normal again – perhaps I'd imagined everything. "I'll bring the dessert through in a second. By the way, as for that guy – he's obviously a total idiot for acting that way. I just wanted to say, don't be surprised if he feels more than he's letting on. Maybe he shut down because he cares, but he's afraid of it, and can't find the words to tell you that. Just see how it goes – you never know."

_Yeah, right,_ I thought, but forced myself to nod and smile. "Maybe."

"Anyone would be lucky to have a girl like you. The world works in mysterious ways," she added, and her face was alight with an excitement I couldn't explain. I headed back to the table, feeling a little unsettled by her words. Esme's eternal optimism was infectious, and pathetically, I'd allowed her words to fill me with false hope.

"Bella, you're back," Jasper said, in what was probably only the third time he'd spoken to me at the table. My breathing became uneven at the sound of his deep, rich voice. _Oh, God. _It was getting pathetic; I felt like a teenager, or one of Pavlov's dogs. I couldn't help but remember the first time I'd met Edward...

_Shuffling along the corridor, I kept my eyes down, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Unfortunately, being the new girl in such a small high school made that impossible. I'd already attracted confused, jealous looks from some of the girls, and various lewd comments from the boys. My shoes squeaked against the linoleum as I walked towards the lockers, following the directions Ms. Cope had given me. Locker sixty-nine. Right, that was it. I dropped my backpack on the floor and unfolded the piece of paper with my combination. I twiddled the knob, trying to get the awkward fucker of a locker to open. I finished the combination and pulled, but the door was stuck fast._

_"Damn it!" I muttered in frustration. I became aware that a few people were watching me, but no one had offered their help as of yet. Ugh. I banged on the locker with my fist, hoping to dislodge whatever was sticking up the lock, but that only yielded sore knuckles. There was obvious laughter in the background, and my cheeks reddened. I banged it again, and this time my fist hurt so much that I managed to drop the pile of newly-acquired textbooks I was holding in my other hand. Bending down, I scrambled to pick them up, but before I'd even taken one, a pair of hands neatly gathered them up and handed them back to me. Obviously male hands, but somehow feminine and delicate, with long fingers that made me think he played a musical instrument of some kind. Wondering who my Good Samaritan was, my eyes shifted upwards and landed on the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen in my life._

_The vivid green eyes alone would have sold me, but he also possessed a shock of burnished, bronze-coloured hair that looked as if it would always be unruly no matter how much he styled it, and a face that looked as if it could be a painting or statue. My heart skipped a beat as his fingers connected with mine, and his full lips curved into an easy smile. Standing up, I tried not to blush, but failed, as I could feel the familiar heat rising up in my neck and face._

_"Um, th-thank you," I stammered, feeling foolish. I couldn't remember being that affected by a boy, even back in Phoenix. Nobody there had really held any interest for me. All the same, the boy was way too cute to pay attention to someone like me - he was probably fighting the girls off. I returned his smile with an awkward one of my own._

_"No problem." He grinned, and the green eyes flashed. "And by the way, this is the best way to get it open." He tapped the locker expertly with the back of his hand, just below the lock, and lo and behold, it swung open. I slid the books inside, grateful for his help. "I'm Edward."_

_"I'm-"_

_"Bella Swan," he finished, smirking slightly. "I know. You're the new girl." I opened my mouth to reply, but was distracted by a tall, burly guy who looked like he belonged in a WWF arena rather than a school. I was amused to see that he also had dark, curly hair and dimples - an odd contrast with his stature. He placed himself between me and Edward, blocking him from view with his massive bulk._

_"Hey, Edward, who's this chick?," the boy said loudly. "We've got to get to Spanish or Mrs. Goff is gonna bust my ass for being late again. It's alright for you, being her golden boy."_

_"I was just helping her open her locker, Em," Edward said calmly, stepping out from in front of the boy to face me once more. Comprehension dawned on the other boy's face, and he laughed, a deep, booming sound._

_"Oh! You're Bella."_

_"Yeah," I said simply, wishing everyone didn't already know my name. "Nice to meet you."_

_"I'm ashamed to say, this is my brother Emmett," Edward said, laughing lightly. "I'd like to apologise for his behaviour in advance." I couldn't help but giggle._

_Emmett punched him on the arm, and Edward shoved him back, shaking his head._

_"Hi," he said brightly, clapping me on the back before turning back to Edward. "Aw, shucks, bro, you make me sound so charming. But we__ really have to get to class. See ya later, Babybel," Emmett said, and I decided I'd have to resign myself to being nicknamed after a cheese snack. "Edward, come on!" he called after he'd taken a few steps, waiting for him. Edward hesitated, his lips parted as if he had more to say._

_"Come and sit with me at lunch. I mean, if you want, it's not like you have to because you might, um..." he told me in a rush, fumbling over his words. _So he was shy too. _I found that even more attractive. _

_"I'd like that," I said, retrieving my bag from the floor. I slung it on to my shoulder, unable to stop myself grinning like an idiot as he walked away. The beautiful boy liked _me. _Plain, little old me._

_I didn't know then that I'd just met the "Rich-kid" Masen brothers, as most of the school had christened them. They were the wealthiest kids at Forks High, but as I soon saw, quieter, music-loving Edward remained fairly impervious to the antics of the popular crowd that Emmett hung around with. I liked him instantly._

Closing my fingers round the stem of my glass, I took a drink, trying to forget the smell of the linoleum that was burned into my brain, a very real facet of that happy memory. I looked up to see Jasper regarding me with a curious expression, and I hoped my makeup hadn't run from my watery eyes.

"I was just helping Esme clean up," I explained, my voice shaking.

"You're a better guest than we are," observed Heidi with a light, tinkling laugh.

"It's okay, you guys work hard all day. I'm only a student."

"Nonsense!" Carlisle remarked. "I remember that being the hardest thing of all."

"So what is it you study, Bella?" Jasper asked in his Southern drawl, the brilliant blue of his irises boring into me. I felt a sudden flush of warmth over my body and squirmed in my seat. I responded to the question he already knew the answer to as coolly as I could, trying to show him that I wasn't fazed. Miraculously, I managed to make it through the rest of the evening with a veneer of normality, hiding the torrent of emotion that was swirling within me. Esme continued to watch the two of us whenever we talked, which wasn't often. Considering I'd questioned her about him, she probably thought that I liked him. Her behaviour was really confusing me, but perhaps I was starting to feel a bit sleepy from all the wine I'd drunk to get over my nerves at meeting new people. We'd eaten the dessert and it had been cleared away. The night was drawing to its natural close.

"Esme, I think I'd better go now," I said finally, getting to my feet. My legs felt slightly unsteady; I'd obviously drunk a little too much.

"Aw, okay," she said, raising her head from where she was sleepily leaning on Carlisle's shoulder. "I'll call you a cab."

I shook my head, trying to blink the cotton wool-like feeling away. I needed to clear my head, both figuratively and literally, and a walk would be the best way to do that. "It isn't late, and Hampstead tube's not far."

Esme's face creased into a doubtful frown. "You're sure?"

"I'll walk you," Jasper suddenly offered, pushing his chair back. "I'm going that way anyhow, I live in Camden." I rolled my eyes. Again, we both knew that wasn't for my benefit.

"That's very kind of you, Jasper," I began, my voice coming out a bit squeaky, "but I'll be alright on my own." He nodded with a shrug.

"Suit yourself." That smooth voice came with an acid undertone, and I could tell he was irritated by my refusal. The eyes of the other guests were fixed on me in curious stares, obviously wondering what the hell was going on. I was even wondering what the hell was going on myself. Perhaps he'd used the night to come up with some lame-ass explanation for his behaviour in the club, and was planning on trying to get me to listen to it. I didn't want to hear it. I feared that if I did, he'd worm his way even deeper under my skin than he already had. Though I tried to resist, I couldn't stop myself from meeting his eyes. Those eyes that could probably pry the blackest secrets from my soul, given a chance. They were locked on me, and he almost looked hurt that I hadn't accepted his offer.

"Bye everyone, and thanks for a lovely evening, Esme and Carlisle," I spluttered out awkwardly, hoping I didn't look rude for leaving so abruptly. However, I couldn't stand to look at him for another minute. The night had been difficult enough as it was, but I'd appreciated the invite. It had at least gotten me out of the house, and Esme was adorable; bless her. Being in her happy home gave me a slight pang, though, when I remembered how long it had been since I'd last felt at home. Like I had a place in the world to call my own.

_Good lord, I need a cigarette. _I stumbled to the hall, cursing my decision to wear the sky-high heels that were acting as instruments of torture for my feet. I slung my coat over my arm. Fumbling in my clutch for my ten-pack, I yanked the door open and wobbled down the stairs, hoping I'd manage to stay upright in the damn shoes. I didn't care that there might be weirdos out there; given my mood, I didn't really fancy their chances with me. _Just fucking try it, _I thought savagely as I pulled on my coat and headed out into the night.

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**Many thanks for all the reviews, alerts and favourites. They make me smile more than I can tell you. You might be interested to know that another ICF outtake has been commissioned - a JPOV of chapter 3 (and you know what that means - *wink wink*). Keep on reviewing, I'll keep on replying (and writing, of course), and thanks for reading! :) xxx**


	10. Flickering Embers

**I know I'm not the fastest updater, but I have other things in the pipeline that I'm working on too. I love this story and I'm not giving up on it, there's so much still to come. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Reviews, faves and alerts are always appreciated.**

**** Thanks to SunKing, Alverdine, SydneyTwiMum, and all my WC girls ****

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**_Song: Empty With You - The Used_**

**Chapter 10 : Flickering Embers**

**JPOV**

I heard the front door click shut, and something inside me snapped. I had to go after Bella. I wanted to explain myself. I wanted to tell her that stupid fucking Jane meant nothing, that it was all a misunderstanding. The chair legs scraped on the floor as I got to my feet, and everyone turned to look at me.

"Um, I think I might just walk her, actually," I blurted out. "It's kind of late out there."

"Well aren't you a gentleman, Jasper," Esme told me with a knowing smile playing on her lips. I frowned, unsure what she meant. I drained the last of my glass of wine and made to leave.

"It was nice to meet you Heidi, Demetri," I said, nodding to each of them in turn. They'd been okay, really. I'd managed to regale the table with some of my stories from the bar, trying to hide how much Bella's presence had affected me. She'd spent absolutely ages in the kitchen with Esme anyhow, so I'd been able to pretend that I was in a perfectly normal mood.

"Likewise," Heidi said with a smile.

"We'll do it again soon," Demetri said, nodding to me in that polite sort of way, though I doubted I'd see him again for a while.

"Thanks for a lovely evening," I told Esme, kissing her on the cheek. In a gesture that was imperceptible to anyone else but me, she pressed her lips to my ear briefly.

"Go get her, then," she whispered quickly before she let me go. I drew back, blinking in surprise. _She knew? Oh God..._Perhaps Bella had told her when they'd been talking in the kitchen. On the other hand, that didn't seem likely, seeing as she'd pretended we'd never met before at the start of the evening.

"See you again soon," Carlisle called to me as I walked out of the room. I grabbed my coat and left, running down the stairs to reach the outside as quickly as I could. Quietly closing the front door of the white house behind me, I exhaled sharply. What a fiasco the night had turned into.

I hoped Bella hadn't already gone too far for me to run after her. My thoughts were interrupted, however, by a barely audible whisper that came out of the darkness.

"Fuck!"

I knew that voice. I walked through the gate at the bottom of the path, past the tall shrubs that lined it, and there she was. She was trying to light a cigarette, but obviously wasn't having much luck with her lighter.

"Goddamn it!" she muttered, as it yet again only yielded faint sparks. I stepped forward softly, pulling my Zippo from my pocket.

"Need a light?" I asked, and she let out a high-pitched scream that died in her throat when she saw it was me.

_Great move, Jasper - you dickhead._

She'd probably thought I was a would-be murderer or rapist, creeping toward her out of the shadows like that. "I'm sorry!" I added, raising my arms in supplication. I was still holding the lighter and noticed her eyeing it. She brought a cigarette to her lips, and I flipped my lighter open so I could light it for her. She took a deep drag, breathing out with a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," she said. I took out one of my own cigs and lit up, and for a second or two we smoked in silence, still standing outside Esme's place. "Okay, bye then," she suddenly said, and started walking off. I wasn't going to give up that easily, though.

"Hey, I'll walk you," I told her, my footsteps following hers as she stalked along the road unsteadily in her high shoes.

"No, thanks," she called over her shoulder calmly. "I can take care of myself."

I almost laughed at that, but I had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate it. Sure, Bella was tough, but she was kind of small. At least, she liked to appear tough. I happened to find that incredibly attractive in her case, except when it meant that she was giving me the cold shoulder.

"Look, I know you're pissed at me, but can you just hear me out?" I asked, painfully aware of how pathetic I was beginning to sound. She jarred to a halt, turning to face me, and I was blown away again by her beauty. That long, silky dark hair, her coat open at the waist to reveal the red dress that hugged every curve, right down to her fuck-me heels. She tucked the coat around her tightly, and I hoped she hadn't caught me ogling her so blatantly.

"Jasper, I'm really not interested," she hissed. "You can fuck as many whores as you like. I just think that it's a little cheap to start putting the moves on one the second my back's turned."

I had to admit, that really pissed me off. She was getting it all wrong. But then I thought back to that night, and how it might have looked to her.

"It wasn't like that," I protested, but that wasn't good enough for Bella. She kept stalking ahead of me down the road, her arms folded, but this time I caught up with her. As I walked beside her, echoing her steps, she deliberately avoided my gaze. We were almost at the bottom of the hill by that point, and it would only be a few minutes before we reached the station. I didn't have long to make my case.

"Look, Jane was this girl I used to – see a while back," I continued, ashamed to admit I'd been involved with her, but knowing I had to. "She's an awful person, and I don't like her at all. Until that night, I hadn't seen her for over a year. She just came up to me when you were at the bar and started trying to come on to me. She was coked out of her fucking mind."

Bella pursed her lips, but I could tell she was considering what I'd said.

"I was trying to politely get her to take her hands off me, and that's when you looked over. It was nothing. Jane's just a stupid bitch who likes to mess with people, and that's all."

"Sure, but you fucked her," she countered, and her face was impassive. I couldn't tell whether she believed me or not.

"Obviously, I haven't always had such good taste in women," I said quietly. She laughed lightly, unconsciously running a hand through her hair.

"Okay, maybe I do believe you," she said, her brown eyes intensely scrutinising my face. "On both counts." I cracked a cautious smile.

"That's fair."

"It wasn't just you. I was having a shitty night anyway. I came out to get away from everything, and my judgement was a bit impaired."

In spite of myself, that comment kind of wounded my ego. "You think what happened in the club was a mistake?" It was clear that my statement was more of a rhetorical question, and my heart sank.

"Jasper, you don't understand," she said urgently, her voice hardening a little. "I just don't think I'm ready to start seeing someone again. Even it's just on a fuck-buddy basis."

I burst out laughing at hearing Bella use that term, but hastily suppressed the remainder of it when she shot me a warning look.

"Again...?" I trailed off, the implications of my words hanging in the air. She slowed down until we were almost at a standstill, her steps sluggish.

"I loved somebody once," she whispered. "And I'm still not over him."

Even in the dim glow that the street lights provided, I saw the single tear that trickled down her cheek. I was reminded more than ever that her hard exterior was just an act. Bella was vulnerable, and I instantly knew that I'd barely even scratched the surface of the hurt she was keeping inside her. Even though she didn't know it, I understood that better than she thought I did. Tentatively, I put my arm round her shoulder as we walked, wanting to do something to show her that it mattered to me.

"I'm sorry," I said awkwardly.

"Thanks." She flashed me a brittle smile. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"It matters to me," I told her in a low voice, unsure if she'd even heard. She exhaled in an uneven breath. I took my arm away, thrusting my hands into my pockets.

"You kept up the pretence of knowing me a little too well," she said conversationally, changing the subject. "I can't believe that you actually asked me what I was studying! As if you didn't know already."

I shrugged. Over the next few minutes the two of us slipped into an easy banter, talking and joking about the night's events. Despite the fact Bella and I had appeared to have sorted things out, I was still wondering about what Esme had said to me as I'd left. I was almost ninety-nine per cent sure Bella hadn't told her, but what if she had? The alternative was that Esme had figured it out herself. Knowing my friend, that was far more likely. I laughed softly, shaking my head in disbelief. _Of course._

"Did you tell Esme that we knew each other?" I asked suddenly, unsure if I should have opened my mouth the second that the words flew out of it.

"No!" her tone was irritable.

"I didn't think you did. Just thought I'd ask."

"I, um, mentioned you and she sort of pieced it together," she admitted in a small voice, her face reddening.

"Mentioned me?" I did enjoy teasing her, if only to make her blush, as she looked so cute when she did so.

"Yeah," turning her gaze to me in a piercing stare. "What of it?"

That was the thing about Bella – she never did what you'd expect her to. Just when you had her down for a shy little girl, she'd surprise you yet again by displaying her confident, harder side.

"Nothing," I replied, but on the inside I wanted to smile at the thought that Bella had mentioned me. Surely that alone was proof that I meant at least something to her, and that thought pleased me. "I'm sure she mentioned me, though," I added, trying to distract myself from that.

She laughed lightly. "Oh, yes. I believe the words 'real sweetheart' were even used."

_Typical Esme._ "Or so she thinks."

"No, I think she's right, you just hide it well."

"Charming!" I couldn't help but laugh.

"You've known Esme a long time, right?" she began. "I have to say, I wouldn't have expected the two of you to be friends. I don't mean that in a bad way, I just..."

"Can't quite figure it out?" I offered, understanding what she meant. She nodded. Funnily enough, Bella was right. Esme and I were very different people, but that was one of the things that made our friendship compatible.

"I know what you mean. She's into cooking and interior design, and don't get me wrong, she loves all that Stepford wife shit. There's much more to her than that, though. Esme's got a wicked sense of humour, she's always got my back, and she'll call me out if I'm being an asshole."

Bella's lips turned up into a small smile. "She and Carlisle seem so happy." I didn't miss the fact that her smile turned slightly bitter. "She's lucky."

"Not in every way." I'd seen the outwardly happy, serene Esme in floods of tears over the fact she couldn't have a baby. Her life certainly wasn't perfect by any means. Although, I figured happiness wasn't really linked to perfection. It was about being happy with what you had. I couldn't remember the last time I'd experienced that feeling, of being content with my lot.

Bella stared at me curiously, and I got the feeling her mind wasn't on Esme any more.

"You're hard to figure out, Jasper Whitlock," she mused.

"Same to you, Bella Swan."

"I meant what I said earlier, you know," she said quickly, making an awkward return to the more serious aspects of our conversation.

I let out a heavy sigh, and my steps slowed. "I heard you, and I agree with you. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to suggest seeing each other on a casual basis. But I'm not a relationship guy, I have to tell you that right now."

_Or at least, I've spent recent years telling myself that I'm not one._

I felt like a dick for saying that to her, but I felt she deserved to know the facts.

"You don't seem like it," she agreed, to my relief. "So where does that leave us?"

"Why don't we be friends?" I suggested. "Contrary to first impressions, I'm a pretty good friend. I promise, I'll be the very model of a gentleman."

"Why is it I find that hard to believe?" She snickered. "Don't think I didn't catch that very, um, friendly look you gave me earlier."

_No imagining required, Bella_...in spite of myself, I grinned. On a more serious note, though, I meant every word I'd said. I found her unbelievably enticing, but wasn't even thinking about it at that moment. I just wanted to be there for her, and it wasn't because I wanted to get into her pants. Well, okay, I obviously did, but that wasn't the point and I didn't want her to doubt the sincerity of my words. She had me. Whatever Bella wanted me to be to her, I would be. I just wanted to be with her. Her mere presence was enough to cancel out the ghosts that haunted my every waking moment.

"Don't flatter yourself," I teased, darting my tongue over my bottom lip. She shoved my arm playfully. We'd reached the station, and she didn't object as I followed her through the turnstiles; we were going in the same direction anyhow. The short Tube journey was a silent one, neither of us electing to say anything, and yet it didn't feel uncomfortable. It had been a long time since I'd felt like I could just be with someone, no pressure. The metallic voice of the announcement broke into my thoughts, telling me we'd reached Camden Town. I jumped up and followed Bella off the train just before the door closed, eliciting an amused look from her.

Once we'd ascended the stairs to the surface, I turned to head right, and she hesitated. Her place must have been in the opposite direction. I paused, wondering if I should ask.

"Shall I walk you back to your place?" She rolled her eyes at first, but then nodded.

"Sure," she replied, her face creasing into an unexpected smile that lit up her whole face. That smile sent a pleasant jolt through my insides – it was practically luminous. It dawned on me that I'd never seen her smile like that before. I couldn't help being secretly thrilled at the fact she wanted me to walk her home, and obviously wanted us to spend more time together. Maybe this 'friends' thing really would work – she was just so easy to be with. For the first few minutes of the walk we kept the conversation light. She told me she'd just finished an important assignment, then I told her how the bar was doing and we agreed that she should come by soon for a drink and meet Pete and Charlotte. After a short time, however, a silence elapsed, and Bella's face grew thoughtful once more. We'd reached residential streets, and the darkness was still and quiet as we walked, full of whispered promises and unspoken thoughts.

A chill wind blew, and she shivered despite her coat, winding her arms about her small figure. Presently, we turned onto a long street lined with rows of well-kept terraced houses.

"This is my road," she told me, in the first time she'd spoken in a few minutes. Disappointment washed over me as I realised I only had a minute or two left with her. It was hard to describe how inexplicably soothing Bella's presence was. She made me feel better about who I was – even the ugliest facets of me that I was careful to hide. I started when I noticed her looking at me curiously, and my face grew hot. I feared that she knew what I'd been thinking. Christ, I was a bit ashamed of being so sappy about a girl. It didn't necessarily have to be a romantic thing, though, I just felt good around her.

_Yeah, who am I trying to kid? I'm fucking crazy about her._

I forcibly expelled that thought from my mind, allowing my head to overrule my heart because I knew it was best. At least for the moment. My intentions were honourable, despite the momentary urges to kiss her that kept coming over me. For a fleeting second, I wondered if she was thinking that too, but then she looked away and the spell was broken. Our steps took us past a green door with chipped paint, and she put out an arm to stop me.

"This is me."

"Oh, okay," I said with an easy smile, yet my mouth felt suddenly dry at the thought that I'd have to leave her. "It was nice to talk. And again, I'm sorry about the other night."

"That's okay. I no longer feel a desire to cut your balls off."

I winced. "Uh, thanks, I guess?" We both laughed.

"It wouldn't have mattered anyhow," she continued breezily, "considering what we decided tonight."

"Oh, yeah," I said, ignoring the hollow, sinking feeling in my stomach.

"So how do we do this 'friends' thing, then?" I asked, feeling foolish the instant the words were out of my mouth.

She raised her eyebrows and paused, considering for a moment. My teeth scraped over my lip, reflecting my nervousness as I waited for her reaction. I wondered where the hell my usual confidence with girls had gone – I was well and truly out of my depth. Bella simultaneously fascinated and unnerved me. She saw right through my easy-going exterior, exposing another side to me. My sensitive side, I supposed, although I would have rather died than admit that to anyone but myself. She might as well have been a witch, for I was completely under her spell. Somehow, she could bring out my emotions, eliciting feelings in me that I couldn't even remember how to feel. My easy charm and charisma weren't enough to win her over, but for some reason, that made me want to be with her even more. I could be way too cocky for my own good, and it was probably for the best that she didn't just let me get away with it.

"Well, I guess we can meet up and do things," she replied. "I mean, what do friends normally do?"

"Let's just...go with the flow" I told her in a mock-serious voice, and she giggled.

"In a strictly platonic sense, of course," she added, arranging her features into a firm expression. I had to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from laughing at her businesslike delivery of that statement.

"Absolutely," I said, choking slightly in the effort to not chuckle. "Look, I understand what you told me, probably better than you can imagine. I'm not ready to be with someone properly either, and I respect you far too much to just sleep with you, nothing more."

The corners of her lips turned up into a little smile, and she seemed pleased at the idea that I respected her. Because I really, really did.

"Not ready?" she asked, and the hidden subtext of her words echoed what I'd asked her earlier with regards to her own situation.

"It's been a while since I've really cared about someone," I admitted with a heavy sigh. This was the most I'd ever revealed to a girl in a long time, and it felt uncomfortable.

"Me too." The moment that passed between us just then would have gone unnoticed by anyone else watching, but right then, I felt as if we understood one another. I watched her retrieve her keys from her bag as she prepared to unlock the door.

"Goodnight," I whispered. She turned round at my words, and I felt the strongest urge I'd ever felt so far that night to pull her into my arms and capture her lips with mine. Her facial expression was softer, less guarded than I'd ever seen it before. The delicate features of her face were even clearer, and despite the dim glow of the street lights, Bella still took my breath away. I watched her open her mouth as if she had a mind to speak, but then it closed. She hesitated, and I wanted to ask her what she wanted to say, but something told me to keep my mouth shut.

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked abruptly, twisting a strand of hair round her fingers. I was momentarily thrown, but recovered myself quickly enough to answer in a timely fashion.

"Yes." In the not-too-distant past, I'd loved someone so much that I would have done anything for her. Anything. In the end, I'd lost her, and my memories of us were as precarious and brittle as paper-thin glass, ready to shatter and break my heart all over again whenever I thought of them. I'd never forgotten the feeling of being loved and admired, and being the centre of someone's world. I knew it only too well, and even though so much time had passed, it was painful to think of. Not that anybody would know it from the outward image I presented to the world, of course. I felt a sudden dampness at the corners of my eyes and blinked it away, hoping she hadn't noticed.

"You'll never stop surprising me, will you?" I was jolted back to the present by Bella's soft voice.

I shrugged, trying to appear composed, even though I was cracking on the inside. "I try."

"Goodnight, Jasper," she whispered, her eyes lingering on my face a fraction of a second too long. I couldn't tear my gaze from her, either.

"Night, Bella." I held up one of hands in a stupid half-wave, and immediately regretted it when she laughed. Turning the key in the lock, she went inside, and I turned to walk back down the street, trying to ignore the empty, gnawing feeling inside me.

"Goodnight, darlin'," I whispered, even though I knew she couldn't hear me. Halfway down the street, I kicked a gate as I passed, frustrated with myself. What the hell was wrong with me? I had to get a grip. I was in danger of letting Bella in far too deep, and it was nothing to do with sex. Though I was loath to admit it, I already cared about her too much to not see her again, even if it wasn't in the capacity I longed for. Despite the fact that she'd forgiven me, I didn't feel the sense of triumph I'd envisioned, just a dull emptiness. It was with a heavy heart that I slowly made my way back to the apartment, the soles of my shoes dragging on the pavement.

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**Didn't you just guess he'd go after her? Reading & replying to reviews of the previous chapter made me giggle, so many of you figured him out.**

**If you aren't aware, we've just had The Fandom Gives Back: Eclipse Edition, a huge fandom-wide fundraiser for Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation. Through auctioning stories, crafts, etc and also straight donations we've raised $139,099 to help fight childhood cancer - I am staggered by the generosity of people in this fandom. I was thrilled and touched that all 3 of my offerings were bought by some kind individuals.**

**I'd like to thank 87english and Kimmydonn for purchasing 2 oneshots which I will write for them in due course, and venis-envy, who bought a special ICF outtake (JPOV of chapter 3) which you'll all get to see soon. Put me on author alert as I'll be posting outtakes as a separate story, so you can see when I post them.**

**As ever, check my blog for teasers and follow me on Twitter for ramblings/updates. Thankyou for reading, and if you liked it, leave a review! xxx**


	11. Regeneration

**Many thanks for all the reviews, faves and alerts I receive - they make me smile more than I can tell you, and I'll send replies. I hope you like this, and as ever, let me know what you think.  
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**** Thanks go to AlverdineFF for her patience and encouragement, SydneyTwiMum for her enthusiasm, and SunKing for the great beta job. Snaps to venis-envy and MDealsWithIt for their pimpage skills. **  
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**ATTENTION:**** I've written 2 outtakes from this story, which I've now posted as a separate story - 'Cut Up Angels: Outtakes from ICF'. One was written for Fics4Nash and is a continuation of the Edward/Bella Dartmouth acceptance flashback****, and the other is an FGB piece - Jasper's POV of the chapter 3 lemon. Please go and read, I think they really add something extra to the story, and if you like them, leave me a review.**

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_**Song: A Wish – Gregory And The Hawk**_

**Chapter 11: Regeneration**

**BPOV**

Setting the laundry basket down by my feet, I pulled the door of the washing machine open. The cloying scent of vanilla fabric softener hit me with full force, triggering a wave of nausea. That was unsurprising, as I hadn't yet eaten breakfast, preferring to subsist instead on two black coffees and several cigarettes. I filled the basket with wet clothes and hauled it out the kitchen door into our overgrown garden. The air was warm for early April, and the leaves of the old oak tree swayed in the light breeze, whispering to one another. I breathed in a lungful of fresh air, luxuriating in the clean scent, and then promptly took a cigarette from my pocket and lit up. The irony wasn't lost on me, and I giggled to myself as I inhaled, then blew the first cloud of smoke from between my lips.

All things considered, I'd slept more soundly the previous two nights than was customary for me. My stomach gurgled uncomfortably, and I resolved to search for food as soon as I was done with the laundry. I started to peg items of clothing on the line methodically, losing myself in the simple task. As I worked my way along the line, holding a couple of pegs in my mouth at a time, my thoughts inevitably drifted back to the fiasco that had been Wednesday's dinner party.

I'd been dissecting the events of that night down to the most minute detail since the moment I'd left Jasper and shut the front door behind me. I wasn't keen to admit to myself that our bizarre conversation on the walk home and our vow to be friends were the two events that preoccupied me the most, but it was true. By the next morning, I was virtually certain that Esme was fully aware of the situation between Jasper and me. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but she was obviously a shrewd woman, so I couldn't have expected anything less. Of course, I adored Esme and she'd been such a kind hostess, but it still felt odd that someone else was aware of a situation that was very private for me. It helped some that I knew I could trust her to be discreet. Angela knew a little as well, so I supposed I wouldn't be able keep it a secret forever.

I grinned to myself as I remembered Angela was to return that day. She'd been away on some geography field trip to the Isle of Arran, which as far as I knew was some place off mainland Scotland. During our sporadic chats over the past few months, we'd progressed from housemates to friends, which was nice. She was the closest thing I had for a girlfriend besides Esme, and I'd missed her. I reached for some more clothes, but realised I was finished when my fingers touched damp plastic. Stepping back into the kitchen, I collided headlong with Mike, dripping wet and wrapped in a towel from the shower.

_Oh, great. An encounter with a world-class creep is all I need right now._

"Yo, Bella!" His eyes swept over my body, his lips stretching into a lecherous grin. I felt a strong urge to cover myself up, given that I was wearing my skimpiest pyjamas – a too-small vest and tight leggings.

"Hi, Mike," I said in a resigned tone, trying to push past him, but the stupid laundry basket I was still holding prevented my movement. He made no move to step aside, and shuffled closer to me so his slick, tanned torso was practically pressed up against me. Thank God the basket was in the way. Mike Newton had the sort of physique that most girls found attractive – tanned, toned and ridiculously muscly from endless protein shakes and gym workouts. I was thankfully immune, however, because I knew that Mike was a chauvinist pig who spent half his time discussing with his soccer teammates whatever 'slut' or 'whore' he was currently chasing. Frankly, he repulsed me. I tried to move backwards, but the wall was behind me, so that wasn't an option either.

"Can you move?" Naturally, the smug little prick ignored my request at first.

"Sure, beautiful," he said after a moment or two, stepping aside with an exaggerated gesture, like he was doing me the biggest favour in the world or something. _Ugh. _Just a regular encounter with Mike. He wasn't like a dangerous rapist or anything, just your standard neighbourhood creep that I unfortunately happened to live with. Given his bravado, I was inclined to think that his dick was probably the size of a gherkin. Angela wasn't a big fan of Mike either, but he left her alone, which I was glad of. I could handle myself with him, but I wasn't sure how she'd react to it.

Funnily enough, I was pretty sure that Jess had a thing for Mike. Whenever I'd see them together in the house, she'd simper over him until she was practically thrusting her breasts in his face. So far, he was pretending he hadn't noticed, but I disliked them both so it amused me to know this. As far as I was concerned, she was welcome to him. I realised that I hadn't seen Eric for weeks, and decided he must be spending all his time in the lab on some bio project. He was harmless enough, just boring, really. Essentially, he thought I was a complete weirdo, and we kept out of each other's way.

I stalked upstairs, laughing to myself, knowing that Mike would have had his eyes glued to my ass as I made my way out of the kitchen. I dumped the basket on my bedroom floor and couldn't help thinking of Jasper in contrast to Mike. Attractive, mature and comfortable enough in his own skin to respect women. Although, on that note, I still hadn't quite forgiven him for being such a cold fish after our first encounter, but I had a feeling there was more to that than he'd let on. Clearly, he had a past as well, although it had been hard to get it out of him. I was intrigued, but I'd surmised from more than just Esme's words that he was a deeply private person who didn't like to reveal his emotions.

I felt as though I'd seen a different side to him on Wednesday night – a less sharp side that blurred the edges between the Jasper I'd met and the one I was just getting to know. Beneath the confident swagger, he was a sensitive guy who was obviously acutely aware of other people's thoughts and feelings. That revelation made me slightly uncomfortable, as I was never sure how easily those blue eyes could read me. I wondered what had made him that way, so guarded and careful, and yet so perceptive. I thought back to our first night together, trying to analyse it dispassionately.

_My body wrapped round his, one of his hands braced against the wall as the other steadied itself against my hip. I moaned into his neck as he slammed upwards into me again, while my hands dug into his shoulders. Sweat beaded on our bodies, his skin slick against mine as we moved together. I pressed my lips to his neck briefly, even though I knew that wasn't appropriate, and his gaze snapped up to meet mine, so full of lust and desire that I was almost undone there and then. The next second, his lips were on mine, devouring my mouth with a violent urgency as I locked my ankles round his back, urging him on..._

I gripped the edge of my desk for leverage, feeling my knees grow suddenly weak. When it came to Jasper, dispassionate wasn't really an option. Clearly, if the plan was to be friends with a guy, thinking about him fucking you against a wall wasn't really a good idea. Registering my uneven breathing, I scrambled for my cigarette packet, desperate for a way to calm myself. The obvious solution wasn't really an option, as I was already running late. A ciggy would have to do. It wasn't as if Jasper hadn't intruded into my own private fantasies since that night, but in the context of recent events it wouldn't exactly make matters easier. That particular flashback had become all too frequent, and it had a habit of surfacing at the most inappropriate moments: in lectures, in the midst of typing an essay, and to my acute horror, several times during the walk home with him earlier in the week. I'd noticed him smirking at my continual blushes, but hopefully he hadn't figured out their origin.

_Unless he was thinking about it too...Shut up!_ I mentally slapped myself for wasting time with such counter-productive thoughts. I had to make it to my appointment on time. After a few tries with my rapidly-dying lighter, I lit up and sucked back my cig desperately. Being friends with Jasper Whitlock was a tricky proposition, given that the mere sound of his name sent my heart racing. I'd just have to learn to control that oh-so teenage reaction, something I should have grown out of years ago. I hadn't felt like that about a guy since Edward, and I couldn't be sure what it meant. I was so confused, not to mention still not dressed. Wednesday night was the first time I'd been alone with Jasper and not made out with him – that had to be a good start, at least.

I stubbed out the cigarette in my 'hilarious' ashtray shaped like a miniature toilet that Emmett had insisted on giving me as a going away gift when I'd left Forks. At least it had the stars and stripes on it, so it was clearly an American memento. A smile came to my face as I thought of Emmett, the most cheerfully irreverent individual I'd ever met, yet that was part of his charm. Though boisterous and in possession of zero tact, he also had the biggest heart. With Emmett, what you saw was what you got, and he'd become like a big brother to me, too, as Edward and I had fallen in love. Last I'd heard from Charlie, Emmett was going to Santa Clara, CA, on a football scholarship. I was sure that would suit him to a tee.

I wondered what Elizabeth and Edward Sr. thought of that, but then again, they knew their own son and were probably okay with it. They'd always relied on Edward as the quiet, musical brain of the family to do them proud; although, in my opinion, they'd put far too much pressure on him. An unpleasant knot twisted in my stomach at that thought – it wasn't as if I blamed them.

_No more than I blame myself, at least._

Edward had wanted so desperately to please his parents, and despite our tentative idea to go to Alaska together, we'd eventually settled on Dartmouth, which they approved of. I'm not sure they were best pleased by the fact that he'd taken up with the police chief's daughter, but Charlie was respected around town despite the fact we weren't from a well-moneyed family. It wasn't as if Edward's family were gangsters and distrusted the police or anything. Whatever Edward's parents thought privately, they'd at least always treated me with kindness and included me in all the family activities. I couldn't help but grin as I remembered the time I'd accompanied them on one of their famed camping trips and knocked myself unconscious within the first few minutes by tripping over one of the guy ropes. Edward would always affectionately tease me for my clumsiness. I felt a sudden longing for him, but sought to shake it off as I checked my watch and realised I really had to get a move on.

There was no time for a shower, so I just shoved on old jeans and a t-shirt, dragging my hair back into a messy ponytail. Out of habit, I automatically selected the pink Converse sneakers that Edward had given me. Not a pair of Louboutins - I wasn't that kind of girl. They'd been a gift just for me, even though he'd teased me by saying he could have bought me a hundred pair. They meant a lot to me, which was why I continued to wear them even though they were old and tattered- why I'd hated myself so much when I'd worn them the night I slept with Jasper. After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, I was out the door. I was thankful that Kate had managed to squeeze me in after I'd cancelled Wednesday's appointment, too lost in fretting about the dinner party.

When I arrived there, miracle upon miracles, the receptionist seemed to be aware of my identity and Kate came straight out to collect me. "Hi, Bella," she said warmly. "Please come through."

"Hi," I replied, feeling the familiar nervous knots tightening in my stomach as I entered the room, followed by her. Taking my usual seat opposite her, I took a deep breath that caught in my chest, letting it go when there seemed no chance I would be able to fully draw it. Trying to occupy myself, I twisted a loose strand of hair round my fingers.

"How are you?" she asked, clasping her hands neatly in her lap.

"Um, I'm okay," I began awkwardly. "I haven't had any nightmares this week."

She nodded, considering for a moment. "That's good to hear. Has anything new happened to cause that?"

My throat felt suddenly dry. _Jasper was new._ But I didn't know if I wanted to tell her. It wasn't as if I could even explain that situation properly to myself, let alone somebody else. What was I supposed to say to her? "_Oh, there's this guy, I really like him, but things are fucked up and we decided we should just be friends. And he seems pretty messed up himself, most likely about some girl he isn't able to get over. I can't stop thinking about him, but it seems like a relationship with him wouldn't exactly be a smart idea for either of us. So yeah, that's it in a a nutshell."_ I half-snorted as I imagined saying that particular set of words to Kate, and she shot me a confused look before her delicate features smoothed into that blank expression therapists are trained to master.

Her face remained placid as she patiently waited for me to answer, letting the silence run its natural course. I wrestled with myself for a minute or two, weighing up the possible implications of telling her.

"I met this...guy," I said in a rush, the words tumbling out in a garbled fashion, but she nodded slowly, appearing to understand. "It was just casual, like a one-time thing, but I don't know...everything was unusual."

"Unusual in what way?" Kate enquired, rolling a pen between her finger and thumb.  
"It's like he can understand how hard things are for me sometimes, and how much I'm hurting, but he doesn't care. It doesn't scare him or put him off." As I explained, it really drove it home for me. Those things were remarkable about Jasper - he didn't think I was a weird freak, he liked me anyway. In whatever sense that might be.

"Perhaps he has his own personal reasons for being able to understand," she observed thoughtfully, allowing me to finally give credence to many of my scattered, confused thoughts. I'd been thinking the same thing in the days prior to the appointment. "Can I ask, what's new about him particularly? I don't know whether you've spent time with any other men since your boyfriend's death, but if so, does this feel different to other situations?"

"Um, I have, yeah," I muttered, feeling a bit awkward as it was the first time I'd really had a proper counselling session with Kate. That was what it was supposed to be like, thrashing out the hard subjects as well as the easier ones. I'd normally clam up and just blabber on about the demands of university to avoid the difficult topics, but that had to change. Her mention of Edward had pricked at my heart, and an unexpected wave of grief surged from deep within me. A single tear burst from the corner of my eye, trickling slowly down my cheek as I was forced to relive my loss yet again. I looked away, embarrassed, but Kate kindly pressed a tissue into my hand. I took it from her with shaking hands, dabbing at my eyes frantically as fresh tears threatened to spill from them.

"It is different with him," I continued, my voice quavering more with each word. "It's like since I met him, everything's changed. I can't just push away the feelings I have, even the horrific ones. I don't feel as...alone."

"You've mentioned several times since you started coming that being in social situations has been uncomfortable for you," she said, her face taking on a sympathetic look. I studied the ceiling, identifying the cracks and flakes in the white paintwork as I attempted to avoid her eye. At the best of times, I was an awkward person, but this was the hardest thing of all. "It sounds like this man's a positive influence in your life, at least from what you've told me so far."

_Was he?_ I had no idea. All I knew was that around him, I felt as if I existed. With him, I didn't feel like either the quiet girl or the tough bitch - he saw something more than that in me. The downside of that was that I was in danger of actually getting close to another human being, something that still terrified me.

"He could be," I answered her honestly. "I just don't think I'm ready to be involved in something that's more than friendship right now."

"And is he?" Her expression was quizzical as she looked up at me from beneath mascara-laden lashes.

"He said he wasn't, either." My chest was beginning to feel uncomfortably tight as I reiterated to Kate the things I wasn't ready to believe myself.

I couldn't fault the sincerity in Jasper's words as he'd told me he just wanted us to be friends, but I had a feeling that wasn't the whole story. I hadn't missed the unashamedly hungry glances he'd been shooting me during the entire dinner and even once or twice on the walk home, before he'd managed to compose himself. At the same time, I wondered if he'd noticed that I'd quivered when he touched my arm, or the deep blush that had spread across my neck and face as I was hit by the memory of our frenzied sex against his wall.

"Is that what you want?"

The question momentarily threw me. Was it what I wanted? Somehow, I already knew that it wasn't just about what we both wanted, it was about what was best for both of us. And that was friendship, even if the mere thought of it made my heart sink, dropping through the bottom of my stomach like a stone.

"Yeah," I said simply. She didn't look entirely convinced, but she nodded, absent-mindedly trailing a hand through her silky blonde waves.  
"Well, you've only just started to open up about what's happened to you, and if you don't mind me saying, I think you're doing well, considering. There's no need to rush anything."

"It makes me feel guilty, though," I admitted with a quiet sigh. "Like I'm betraying Edward." It didn't escape me that it was the first time I'd used his name in her presence, and I was aware that it was a huge step for me.

"That's understandable." She hesitated. "I know it's difficult, but can you try to tell me a little about what happened to...Edward?"

My breathing hitched, and a gasp fell from my lips before I could stop it. I was on the verge of explaining to her everything that I'd spent nearly two years running from, trying to pretend that it didn't exist. I'd gone all the way to London to escape my demons, only to find that they returned to me with a vengeance. I took a deep breath, waiting for the words to come.

An hour later, I left the practice with a promise I'd return for the usual Wednesday appointment the following week. As I made my way back home, I felt kind of shell-shocked, like I'd been hollowed out from the inside. Kate had been kind and let me take my time over everything. I'd only told her a little of the situation, but that had been enough for me to break down sobbing like an idiot.

I had several finals coming up over the next few weeks, so I spent the rest of the afternoon slumped on my bed studying, trying to block out any unwelcome thoughts that threatened to creep into my brain. In the later afternoon, my hearing picked up the sound of a key turning in the lock downstairs. I heard somebody shuffle inside and realised it had to be Angela, back from her trip. I put my book down and decided to go and see her. That was a first for me, voluntarily spending time with any of my housemates. However, I had a feeling it wouldn't extend to Jess, Mike or Eric. As I rounded the corner of the banister, I saw that it was indeed Angela, still clad in hiking boots and a windcheater from her field trip. She'd slung her enormous pack on the table and was already busily sorting through it.

"Hey, Bella!" she said with a warm smile as she looked up and saw me. "How are you doing?"

I almost laughed at the thought of giving an honest answer to that question, for I truly had no I idea what it would be. "Fine, thanks," I said smoothly. "How was the trip? It must have been pretty cold and rainy?" I gestured to the all-weather ensemble she was still wearing.

Angela giggled. "I know, it's not exactly a catwalk look, but the winds that come off the sea are freezing. There's no point in even wearing makeup; the rain'll just wipe it from your face straight away. Did your paper go okay?"

"Yeah, I got it in okay. It probably could have been better, but I think I'm really starting to understand Hardy now."

All at once, her face gleamed with excitement. "Ooh, before I forget!" she exclaimed, rifling through a bag she'd just removed from her pack. "I got something for everyone, actually. Here." She handed me something wrapped in tartan paper, tied with a red ribbon.

I opened the wrappings carefully to find a box of handmade chocolates. Pulling the last remnants of the paper away, I couldn't help but smile. I was really touched that she'd thought to get me a gift.

"Thank you, that's really kind," I said after a second, putting the box down on the table. I really was glad that Angela was home. She was so sweet, and she didn't pry, which was one of the reasons why I felt I could trust her with some of my secrets. A pleasantly diverting conversation that had nothing to do with Edward or Jasper would suit me just fine.

"So," I added after a moment, my lips twisting into a mischievous smile, "how did it go with Ben on the trip?" In light of the recent conversation we'd had about Angela's crush on Ben from her class, I'd decided to enquire about the status of things between the two of them. That was just the kind of idle gossip that I needed to distract myself.

Angela immediately flushed, her head bowing so her fringe fell over one eye. "Um, well, quite well, I guess," she said with a nervous laugh.

I sat down on the counter top beside her, dangling my legs as I waited for her to expand. Angela was shy, and I didn't want to push her, but, oddly enough, I felt myself suddenly becoming interested in how things had gone. It made a change from having no interest in other people. She put down the flashlight that she'd just pulled from her pack, and turned to me, looking embarrassed but kind of excited, too.

"Okay, so," she began, her voice trembling a little, "I saw Ben a lot on the trip, but he was mostly just with the guys, even on the nights we all went out together. There's not too many girls doing Physical Geography, so the three of us tended to stick together. It was different from when we're in lab, and I talk to him all the time - well, that is, when I can get over my stupid thing of being embarrassed around him. But anyway, one day, we were out taking some granite specimens, and he was on the other side of the rock I was working on."

"Go on?" I said, unable to prevent the trace of excitement creeping into my voice. The conversation I was having with Angela was the sort of giddy, estrogen-fuelled chat that I hadn't really had in ages, and I had to admit I was kind of enjoying it.

"I know you told me to ask him out casually, but I was just too shy." She blushed, dipping her head. "He's sometimes a bit awkward around me in the lab, so I wasn't sure he'd take the initiative either. I didn't even know if he liked me! So anyway, that day when we were working together, we got talking, and for once, it wasn't awkward, it just felt really easy. Also - and I bet you'll be proud of me here - I asked him if he'd like to go for a coffee sometime."

"Ha! Good for you.. I'm guessing he said yes?"

I got down and rummaged in my cupboard for a packet of cookies. I hadn't eaten much that day, and it definitely seemed like the right sort of moment for a cookie.. I took one and offered her the packet.

Angela smiled shyly, then nodded, taking a cookie. "Thanks. Actually, he said, 'how about dinner and a movie instead?'"

"Aww, that's really sweet." I was genuinely thrilled for Angela. Ben sounded like a really nice guy from what she'd told me, and she of all people really deserved some happiness.

I took a bite of my cookie, losing myself in my own thoughts. Listening to Angela's story had made me nostalgic. Those perfect, sparkling moments when you first met someone were unforgettable, and nothing could touch them. Every kiss, touch and whispered endearment was more thrilling than the last, and every moment you spent with them was never enough. I was really happy for her, of course, but couldn't help feeling wistful.

"Sure, but therein lies my problem. He asked me out _tonight_. That's way too soon! I've got nothing to wear, and I'm been freaking out about it ever since he asked me." She was still organising the contents of her pack into neat piles, but I saw the corners of her lip turn down before she let out a heavy sigh.

"I can lend you something if you like, I have a ton of stuff in my wardrobe," I offered, feeling a bit awkward. I wasn't great with makeovers or anything, but Angela wasn't really that sort of girl. I was sure I could handle finding her a nice outfit to wear for tonight, though - it couldn't be that difficult.

"Really? That'd be great."

I led her up to my room and we spent the next few minutes going through my wardrobe with a critical eye, pulling out anything we thought would work. After a while, she settled on a cute pair of skinny jeans and I picked out a floaty black top that she could wear over a camisole. She seemed happy with her choices, and it was nice to do something so normal. I thought back to instances where I'd done similar things with friends back in Forks, and the memories were hazy- soft around the edges where I'd forgotten parts. I spent my evening involved in various solitary activities: catching up on my reading for class, adding to my Amazon wish list, periodically bringing up Jasper's number on my phone and then pressing the 'back' button. I hoped that Angela and Ben's date was going well. By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, I was strangely exhausted, perhaps from the intensity of the session with Kate, so I stretched out on my bed and fell into an uneasy sleep.

My dreams were full of confusing, ever-mutating images, each one making less sense than the last until they finally morphed into my familiar nightmare.

_Edward, stiff and cold beneath my hands, but it was different. For the first time, his features were blurred in my mind's eye. He was slipping away from me, even from the bird's eye view I held over the scene that had changed my life forever. I could still see myself screaming, the raw, searing sobs ripping themselves from my throat. The sound grew louder, until it was ringing it my ears at a deafening volume, ricocheting off every wall and piece of furniture..._

I jolted awake, a strangled cry still on my lips as I realised I really had been screaming, and had somehow heard myself in my own dream. Or rather, nightmare. My pyjamas were soaked through with sweat, my skin freezing and clammy as I lay there, shuddering. My stomach revolted, but I managed to suppress the overwhelming urge to vomit for the sake of the comforter I'd only just washed that morning. I dug my fingernails into my palms in a childish gesture to confirm to myself that I was awake, and indeed I was. Awake in a living nightmare. I squinted into the darkness, wondering if I should go and get a glass of water or something, but I couldn't move.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Bella? Can I come in?" said the kind murmur of Angela Webber, faint as it came through the wood.

I could have turned her away, but...fuck it . "Come in," I croaked, the sobs quieting in my throat.

She was still in the clothes we'd picked earlier, and must have just got in from her date with Ben. I felt guilty for putting a downer on what had obviously been a wonderful night for her, but I didn't really have the heart to ask her about it just then. She gasped when she saw me, the smile slipping from her face, and I half expected her to make a run for it. Just how crazy did I look? To my surprise, she came straight towards me and put her arm around me.

"It's okay," she murmured, stroking my sweaty forehead. "It's okay."

That simple, caring gesture brought a fresh spate of sobs and I leaned against her, soaking the silky fabric of her top with my tears. I never fucking let people see me like this. Why now? I was ashamed of how vulnerable I was in front of Angela right then, and yet I couldn't stop. She asked me nothing. She just held me. When I eventually quietened, she flicked on the twenty-four hour news channel and we watched it in silence, sitting side by side in the gloom.

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**I know it got a little heavy, but hang in there! Reviews are always nice, I put a lot of work into writing this so it's nice to know that's appreciated :).**

**For any canon Alice/Jasper fans, I've posted a new oneshot called 'Solace' - check it out if you're interested.  
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**Teasers are on my blog as always. Thankyou for reading! xxx  
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	12. Fallacies

**Hi everyone, and a warm welcome to any new readers! Firstly, I'm sorry that I've taken so long to post this, but I've been away some of the time and so has my beta, so it took longer to get this one done. I was going to post a teaser on my blog as usual but I was away for a week so I figured you'd all just prefer to have this posted as soon as it was edited. I love all the reviews I get and will reply to them - thankyou all so much! It's so sweet to see how much people enjoy this story :)**

**** Thanks to my favourite WC girls, my pre-reader SydneyTwiMum and beta SunKing for polishing this until it shone. ****

**Another Jasper chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think.**

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_**Song: Welcome to Oblivion - Madina Lake**_

**Chapter 12: Fallacies****  
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**JPOV**

Several days later, I helped Pete open up the bar in the early afternoon, still feeling lost in self-pity. I'd ignored a call from Esme the day after, who had probably intended to ask me how it had gone with Bella, and I was trying to ignore the guilt I felt as a result. I loved her, but she could half drive me crazy at times.

"Seriously, Jazz, what the hell is with you lately?" I looked up from my baked potato and salad with a sigh, acknowledging the inevitable question I'd known Pete would ask when we'd gone to eat our lunch in the park. In fact, I was pretty sure that Charlotte had insisted we go for a walk and get out of her hair in the hope he'd manage to uncover why I'd been acting so weird of late. To be honest, though, I couldn't even explain it myself. To some extent, I'd been compartmentalising the different aspects of who I was with Bella and who I was at work. And I was loath to divulge what was happening between the two of us, because I really had no idea. Of course, Pete and Charlotte were close friends of mine, and I knew I'd been acting like a real jerk lately, far too wrapped up in my own thoughts to pay much attention to anyone else around me.

However, it felt like if I admitted to Pete and Charlotte how I felt about her, it would make it official that I actually cared for her. I think if I told either of them I was interested in a girl for something other than sex, they'd probably drop dead from the shock. It was at the bar especially that I indulged my womanising side, and I think they were surprised I hadn't seemed to take the slightest bit of notice of girls who'd been in the bar recently. These were probably all questions that Pete was going to end up asking me, but then again, maybe not. Neither of us tended to be touchy-feely with one another - we weren't really those types of guys.

"What do you mean?" I replied carefully, putting my mostly-uneaten lunch down with a sigh. I usually tried to eat healthily, but that afternoon my stomach was in knots, and I just wasn't feeling particularly hungry.

"Where have you been these past few weeks? Apart from showing up for work, you never seem to be available these days."

I knew he was right, but I wasn't sure that I could explain myself. I had no sufficient excuse, really. I turned my gaze to the ground, avoiding his eyes. The weather was mild for April, with the scents of spring flowers rising from the beds clustered beside the path, but I barely noticed; I was that preoccupied.

"I'm sorry, I've just had a lot of stuff going on lately."

"Is it something to do with that chick you slept with?"

I raised my head in surprise, my eyes turning to his incredulously. I hadn't been aware that he and Charlotte knew about that, but then again, not much got past her.

"You know about that, huh? I guess you saw her in Phoenix and in Underworld that night, too." I was trying to keep my voice casual, but my throat felt dry and constricted, and it was a struggle to form every word. It dawned on me that Pete knew more than I'd really considered, as he'd been watching me that night at the club.

He laughed, barely concealing it with a cough. "It was pretty obvious something had happened between you two. I mean, we couldn't help but notice, considering you actually seemed interested in going over there to see her, even though you'd already spent the night with her."

I sat back, folding my arms over my chest as I pursed my lips. I wasn't willing to reply to that, but I knew he knew everything anyway.

"You do like the girls, you can't deny it." He was clearly goading me, and though I knew I shouldn't rise to the bait, that comment rankled with me.

After even a couple of meetings with Bella, and countless hours spent thinking about her, I no longer wanted to see myself as that guy. The guy who fucked women indiscriminately and avoided intimacy at all costs. In the end, it was shallow and empty; maybe with her, it wasn't enough. I'd only known her a few weeks, but in that short time, even the thought of her was enough to thaw emotions that I hadn't experienced in the longest time, even with girls who were perhaps as beautiful as her. Having said that, maybe I didn't agree with my last comment - I highly doubted I'd ever been with a girl as gorgeous and captivating as she was.

"And your point is?"

Pete frowned, his features twisting into an irritated expression. "This is what I mean! This attitude you've suddenly got."

"Look, you know I'm a moody fucker sometimes. You've always known that about me. Just let me be, and I'll deal with it. Tell that to Charlotte, too - don't think I can't tell she put you up to this."

"Leave her out of it!" he told me in annoyed tones. It was then I realised that I'd let this get too far, and I felt guilty.

Pete was my boss, but he was also my friend, and I shouldn't have been holding out on him like that. I still couldn't quite figure out why he was getting his panties in a twist so much, though. It wasn't like him. However, I knew that people hated to be out of the loop. Not that Pete was exactly a gossip queen, but he seemed angry that I hadn't confided in him. I'd confided in Esme, but that hadn't exactly been the plan. She'd worked her feminine wiles on me until I'd crumbled under her gentle questioning, but that almost made me more determined not to tell anyone else. I especially didn't want Pete to know about the agreement we'd made to stick to friendship, nothing more. He'd laugh his ass off into next week if he knew that.

"I'm sorry, I just don't appreciate people interfering in my personal life." The second the words were out of my mouth I realised how harsh and businesslike they sounded, but I was suddenly pissed off too. "It's none of your business."

He got up from the bench, balling his empty potato chip bag in his fist before dropping it into the bin beside us. "Fine, I guess not. Except I'm technically your employer, and you don't seem to be putting in the effort at work that you should. Although I suppose it's not like you need the money, anyway, I've always wondered why the hell you wanted the job in the first place."

His voice was filled with pure venom, and a hint of envy that I'd never realised Pete was capable of. I tried to keep the fact that I had a comfortable living outside of my day job to myself, but obviously, he and Charlotte knew. I just never thought he'd choose to use it as a weapon against me.

"Well, then why don't you just fucking fire me and get it over with?"

"You listen to me. Don't think that just because you flirt with all the girls and get them to keep coming back to the bar that you're necessary to me. It's not a good economic climate, and I could drop you in a second. I know you like this job - it's not about the money for you."

"I don't really feel like sitting here and listening to this any more." I got up, threw my uneaten lunch in the garbage can and set off at a swift pace, not bothering to look back. As if I wasn't stressed out enough already, my best friend had chosen to give me a hard time about it. I knew I hadn't been as available lately as I should have been, but that wasn't only to do with the Bella situation.

My nightmares had become frequent to the point that I could no longer tell the difference between them and dreams. Perhaps I should have confided in the two of them, but I never told anyone if I could help it. Esme only knew because alcohol had loosened my tongue on a particularly bad night for me, and that was difficult enough for me to deal with. I couldn't handle people's judgment, but what I found even harder to handle was their pity. It was enough to turn my stomach.

I stormed along the path absent-mindedly, the tall rhododendron bushes brushing my side as I went. All reasonable thoughts had left me - I was livid. I understood that Pete had some right to harbour irritation towards me, but I'd never thought that he resented me. Sure, I hadn't been the best friend of late, but I sort of hoped that he would have cut me some slack. Although, I knew I could be difficult when I was feeling overwhelmed. My natural reaction was to close down and shut myself off from people, which I knew was a far cry from the chatty, confident personality I displayed to the bar's customers. I knew I was perhaps overreacting a bit, but that jibe about my living standards had pissed me off. I'd hedged the question all those years ago when he'd hired me and said that a rich uncle had left me some cash in his will, but I was never sure he'd really believed that.

As I reached the lake's edge, I slowed my footsteps, the soles of my shoes scraping against the concrete of the path. I had no idea where the hell I was going, and, in fact, I had to be back at work soon.

_Perhaps I won't go back on time. I'm sure he'd love that - it'd give him the excuse to fire me that he so longs for._ The thought percolated in my brain, and I briefly considered acting upon it, but then decided against it. Irrational actions like that would get me nowhere. It was probably best that Pete and I talked when we'd both cooled off a bit.

I was distracted by the sound of footsteps behind me, crunching on the gravel surrounding a nearby flowerbed. It was very quiet in the park, just a regular mid-week afternoon, so the sound reached my ears instantly. I turned, looking for the source of the sound and, too late, saw Pete's hand reaching out to push me. I'd been standing right on the edge of the bank, and when his hand connected with my back, I took a step backwards, lost my footing and tumbled into the water.

I hit the water quickly, though it felt like I was falling in slow motion. I gasped, choking on a mouthful of cold, stagnant water. The lake wasn't very deep, and I broke the surface immediately, coughing and spluttering. To my surprise, Pete was still standing at the water's edge, a guilty expression playing on his face. Then the stupid bastard started laughing, like he was pleased with himself or something.

"Shit, I'm sorry!" he said very genuinely when he eventually stopped laughing. However, at that particular moment I wasn't feeling very forgiving. I spat out some algae and pulled something out of my dripping hair that could possibly have been duck crap. _Ugh. "_I was being petty, and just kidding - I didn't think you'd actually fall in," he continued, trying to suppress more laughter.

_Well, we'll see who's laughing now. _ "Can you help me out of here?" I asked innocently as I shuffled forward, my sodden shoes slipping on the muddy lake floor.

"Sure." He reached out his hand, and I took it, but in a carefully meditated gesture, I yanked his wrist and he overbalanced on the slippery bank, tumbling headfirst into the water beside me.

"You bastard!" he spluttered when he surfaced a second later, shaking the water from his hair like a dog. I caught his eye, and for some inexplicable reason, we both dissolved into peals of laughter. Once I started, I couldn't stop, my sides near-aching. By the time we'd both dragged ourselves out and collapsed on the bank I was still grinning to myself. It would be difficult to remain angry at Pete now that I'd exacted my own petty revenge on him.

"So, you really didn't mean to push me in?" I said after a moment, sitting up to continue picking various items out of my hair which was now hanging in rat-tails.

"Seriously, man, no," he said, still trying to squeeze the water from the hem of his extra-large Metallica t-shirt. "I suppose I was still kind of pissed at you, but I was just having a bit of a joke, trying to sneak up behind you and scare you."

"I'm sorry. I think I kind of partly deserved what you said," I admitted, knowing that I'd been far too snappy with my good friend of late.

He shook his head. "You didn't, really. I was just being an ass."

I shrugged. "It's okay. I know I haven't really told you anything about what's been going on." Well, I could tell him the edited version at least, avoiding the fact that memories of my past life were increasingly manifesting themselves as nightmares in the dark hours.

"So try me." We both got up, the water sloshing in our shoes as we made our way back to the entrance of the park. Several passers-by stared at us in confusion. We probably looked like total miscreants- filthy and absolutely soaked through.

"You know that girl, Bella? Well, I went to my friend Esme's for dinner one night, and guess who she invites at a guest? Her."

He let out a sharp intake of breath that tailed off into a low whistle. "Wow. Intentionally?"

"I don't actually know, but I'm pretty sure she didn't know. Esme works in the library at the university Bella goes to."

This time, I wasn't sure he'd ever stop laughing, and it wasn't for the reason I'd imagined. "That is pretty funny. But seriously, she's still in college? Didn't realise you were robbing the cradle!"

Typical. This was exactly why I didn't bother discussing girls with Pete, he was incapable of serious thoughts. "Get fucked," I told him, throwing a playful punch at his arm. "She's twenty-one, that's only four years younger than me."

My fingers wound into my hair distractedly as I yet again tried in vain to untangle it. A wind had picked up, and with my wet clothes, I was starting to feel goddamn cold. I didn't feel like going back to sort myself out just yet, though, and Pete seemed to understand. He slowed down and sat on a bench near the gate, and I silently joined him.

"Funny you should say that," he said after a moment. "Now it's all making sense. By the sounds of things, it seems like _you're_ the one who needs to get fucked."

"Haha, very funny." I rolled my eyes. "It's not like I couldn't if I wanted to, but I - I don't feel even the least bit interested in girls I'd normally be chatting up within the first second of meeting them."

"I noticed. I mean, I don't exactly blame you though - wow. The girl's really hot."

"Shall I tell Charlotte you said that?"

He barked a laugh. "Hey, she told me she thought that Bella girl was hot, too. You never know, we might suddenly decide to become one of those adventurous couples and experiment with another woman."

"As long as I don't have to compete for attention with the two of you," I said with a hollow laugh.

All at once, however, I began to feel dull inside. What if Bella had fobbed me off with friendship because she wasn't really interested in anything more? Had I imagined the intense connection between us that burned in my skin every time I'd spent time around her? Perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps she'd decided I just wasn't good for her, and she thought I'd just toss her away like I had so many other women. I suppose she did have past precedent to go on, but that irritated me. I wanted to show her that that wasn't me, that I could be tender, caring even. God. I was starting to make myself sick, describing myself like some fucking Hallmark card.

"So what do you actually want? You like her, right?"

"Sure. She seems cagey, though. I'd be willing to bet that some guy really hurt her. And she's definitely not interested in anything on a casual basis."

"I seriously can't believe I'm hearing this." Pete's expression was incredulous, which I should have expected as he'd never heard me discuss girls full stop, let alone in the context of wanting more than sex. I frowned, and he raised a hand. "Sorry, go on."

"After I saw her at Esme's party, we talked, and I sort of suggested that maybe we should be friends."

Naturally, he instantly erupted into laughter, shaking his head. "No way. Tell me you didn't say that."

"You know, I don't actually just want to fuck her. Seriously, Pete, she's messed up, definitely about someone, and she said she wasn't ready to be with anyone new. I have no idea whether I'm ready for this, either."

He sighed, steepling his fingers as he looked at me. "We always knew you weren't as shallow as you pretend to be."

"Thanks, I think?" I raised an eyebrow. The wind started to blow, and I was beginning to shiver. "C'mon, let's go back. I'm freezing my ass off."

"Agreed," he said, getting up. "Look, take the rest of the day off. Carmen's there too, so she can cover for you. I mean, you need to go and get a shower anyhow."

Carmen was one of the other bar staff. She was nice enough, I just never really saw her as she tended to work opposite shifts to me.

I couldn't wait to get home and get that cesspool of lake water off me. I wandered home slowly, ignoring the curious glances from passers-by who probably thought I was a tramp.

Stepping into the shower, I turned it on and practically groaned as the hot water poured over my skin, warming every inch of my frozen body. I washed my hair twice to get the crap out of it, spending far longer in the shower as the water felt so great on my cold skin. The flecks of dirt that clung to me from the less-than-clean lake water circled the drain, quickly coming off as I soaped myself.

All at once, for no reason, an image popped into my head of Bella in the shower with me. I was pressing her slick body into the tiles, one of her ankles balanced on my shoulder as I fucked her. Well, at least in my fantasy she was that flexible. I slid my hand down my body, wrapping my fingers round my already rigid dick. Thinking of her enhanced the sensations tenfold as I slowly stroked my shaft up and down. I groaned, bracing my other hand against the tiles as I imagined her wet and open, moaning as I thrust into her.

Suddenly, I came to my senses and realised what I was doing. With great effort, I took my hand away and switched the dial to cold, shuddering as the freezing water hit my skin. Even so, my erection took a minute or two to subside. I'd probably end up giving in later, but I'd try and ignore it for the moment. It didn't seem right to be fantasising about a friend, even if she was breathtakingly sexy.

Every part of her was burned into my brain- the delicate, feminine curves of her form, her laugh, and her smile that glimmered, even beneath the dim glow of streetlights in the night. Shivering, I got out of the shower, wrapping a towel round my waist before I headed back to my bedroom. My phone was lying on top of the comforter, and it seemed it was almost mocking me.

Throwing my towel down, I picked up the phone and scrolled through my contact list until I found Bella's name. I was about to call her when I realised that talking to her on the phone while naked might be a bit on the weird side. Not that she'd ever know, but I'd just feel like a pervert or something. I grabbed my robe from the back of the door and put it on, half-laughing to myself before I took a deep breath and dialled her number.

"Hello?" she sounded wary, although she had my number too so I'm sure she knew it was me.

"Hey, it's Jasper." _She knows that, idiot._

"I know who you are." She laughed lightly, the soft sound reverberating down the phone.

"I guess so, huh?" I couldn't help smiling to myself. "So how are you doing?"

"I'm uh, good, thanks," she said, but I detected a slight tremor in her voice, and I didn't buy what she'd said. "And you?"

"Yeah, fine," I drawled, inwardly laughing at myself for coming up with a similarly pat answer. "Actually no, not really. I'm exhausted, and Pete pushed my ass in the boating lake at Regent's Park earlier."

"Ha! I'm there right now, actually. Although, I bet you deserved it somehow," she said cheekily, and I could just imagine her cute smirk at the other end of the phone. I had a instant yearning to be with her right then and there. "You're tired?" she added, and her voice had taken on a different, more cautious tone.

"I don't sleep well," I said flatly, figuring I might as well tell her that, even if I didn't explain about why that was.

"Me neither," she said softly, the volume of her words dropping to the quietest whisper. Not for the first time, I got the sense that she was as haunted in her dreams as I was. Yet while I'd slept with her in my living room, there'd been nothing. Even the knowledge that she'd been there was enough.

I wondered who'd hurt her so badly, and entertained fleeting thoughts of his death, whoever this faceless man was. Bella was as charming and quick-witted as she was beautiful, but it taken me time to peel back her guarded, cautious layers and see that. It was as if she took care to hide that from others, preferring to appear like a bland and colourless bird, when beneath, she was concealing the brightest feathers. And I had a feeling I was only just starting to uncover what made Bella Swan tick.

I'd never had a problem with getting women to succumb to me. It was normally as easy as just piling on my charm and thickening the Southern accent until they were eating out of my hand. Perhaps that was arrogant, but in my experience, it was true. Of course, I happened to want the one woman I couldn't have. How depressingly predictable.

"Jasper?" I realised that I'd allowed my thoughts to run away with me, and she'd probably been waiting for a response for several seconds.

"Oh, sorry! I'm just really tired, zoned out there for a second."

"That boring, am I?" She giggled.

"Guess so." I grinned, even though she obviously couldn't see it down the phone.

"I've got this huge assignment due, and I have no idea what I'm doing," she said, her words disjointed as they rushed out. "And I slept in this morning, and I've still done nothing, and I'm sitting in the park trying to take notes and I don't even have the time to go get coffee." She sounded stressed out, and I was concerned, but didn't want to irritate her by showing it.

"That's really not a great combination all round, right?" I said lightly. "Listen. I've got the afternoon off, so if you want some company, I'm around. I promise I won't distract you, and I'll even bring coffee."

'Um, and a cookie too, please?" she said in a small voice, and I had to fight hard not to laugh.

"You got it. So that's a yes?" I felt strangely light on my feet at the thought I'd see her soon.

"Where will I find you?"

"I'm sitting on Primrose Hill - you should be able to spot me," she answered.

"It's a date," I said without thinking. "Well, uh, actually, I didn't mean that, you know, I just..."

Bella choked back a laugh. "You know, Jasper, you don't have to be so nervous. It's fine, I know what you meant."

I chewed on my lip, feeling like a bit of an idiot. "See you in a little while."

"Yep." I hung up the phone and went to get ready, thinking to myself how it was certainly turning out to be an eventful day.

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**Are you all ready to kill me for the shower wank that never was? For cockblocking poor Jasper's self love? *ducks down* He's just too moral, y'know...**

**And yeah, I know it probably technically counts as smutty content but it's very brief so I suspect it's still allowed under the M rating. Please leave a review and thanks for reading! More on its way soon xxx**


	13. Frozen

**Yeah, I know this one took a while, but I've been busy and it took a while to finish this. It _is_ longer than usual, though, so I hope that makes up for it. As always, I'm speechless at the lovely reviews I get - you guys are freaking AWESOME! Welcome to any new readers and those who've faved/put me on alert, too :). I've also been working on a short multichap involving a World War One Bella, Edward and Jasper so if that sounds like your cup of tea, put me on author alert and you'll know when it's posted soon.**

**As ever, please leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter.  
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**** Thanks to SunKing, SydneyTwiMum and all my fabulous WC girls who brighten up my day** **

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_**Song: Through The Glass - Stone Sour**_

**Chapter 13: Frozen**

**BPOV**

"Argh!" I gnashed my teeth in frustration, balling up yet another piece of paper and discarding it beside me. I'd put off the modernism essay, and had done nothing even though it was due in three days, which was unlike me. In addition to that, finals were coming up in two weeks, and the thought of that practically made me break out in a cold sweat. With a sigh, I turned back to my Virginia Woolf novelthat was open in front of me, trying to ignore the thought at the back of my mind that Jasper was on his way to see me. When he'd called me out of the blue, I'd been pretty relieved to hear a friendly voice, and so I'd ended up babbling down the phone in a panic about how I was never going to finish all my work. He'd probably thought I was insane, and had just offered to come and keep me company to get me off the phone. Although, I had to give the man props for agreeing to bring coffee.

I ran my fingers through my hair, yawning. Working in my room just hadn't seemed to go well, so in the early afternoon I'd grabbed my bag and gone to the park. I'd found the fresh air and trees of Primrose Hill to be soothing, but still hadn't managed to get much done. Of course, I'd left in a hurry, thinking I wouldn't see anyone I knew, so I was wearing one of my scruffiest, comfiest old outfits. Rummaging in my bag for a hand mirror, I gulped as I took in my dishevelled reflection. My hair was pulled haphazardly in a headband to keep it out of my eyes, I had no makeup on, and I was wearing my oversized 'Journey' t-shirt that Renée had sent me the year before as a joke, with denim cutoffs. I groaned, inwardly cursing the universe for making sure that when I saw Jasper I not only looked like an utter mess, but one who was a fan of _Journey._ It wasn't as if I even liked them. I sighed, resigning myself to looking like a scruffy eighties throwback, and tried to do something with my hair, which was standing up behind the headband like a fright wig.

_Why do you even care so much?_ I started at that thought, realising I was getting far too stressed out about my appearance, considering we were friends. I laughed darkly, wondering who I thought I was kidding there. Deciding to take a break, I put my notebook down and glanced around, taking in the sights. It had been cool earlier that afternoon, but the sun had unexpectedly emerged from behind the clouds, and as ever, people were making the most of it. It suddenly dawned on me that it was almost May, and summer was quickly approaching. The air was thick with the scent of freshly mown grass and spring flowers, and all up and down the hill I could see clusters of people enjoying the sunshine. Families, groups of friends, and loners like me, too. Summer was a time of happiness and socialising, but in the past two years I'd allowed it to pass me by. Somehow, though, I felt something was different. For the past twenty-four months, my world had been winter - cold, barren and devoid of life, but it seemed that there were budding shoots that signalled the possibility that one day it would be spring for me. Summer, no. All the moments I'd spent with Edward were summer, full of sunlit days and nights, before winter had crept in and stolen him from me. I wasn't sure I would ever know it again, but it was pleasant to dream that eventually, I would.

As my gaze shifted, I caught sight of Jasper a little lower down the hill, making his way towards me. He was carrying a paper bag in his hand, which hopefully indicated he'd fulfilled his promise to furnish me with caffeine and sugar.

"Hi," I said as he drew closer, and he smiled that warm, devastating smile of his. I blinked like a goldfish, feeling a bit foolish.

"Hey there," he said, sitting down beside me on the grass. I noticed he had a pair of aviators perched on his nose and managed to look effortlessly cool even in his t-shirt and jeans. I sighed, really feeling ashamed of my hobo-like appearance. "You were easy to find."

"I'm glad," I said, my eyes straying to the paper bag. He followed my gaze, laughing.

"Don't worry. I brought studying provisions, as promised. Coffee," he said, handing me a large paper cup with a lid, "and a white chocolate and macadamia cookie. That okay? I wasn't sure what to get, so I just got my favourite."

"Ooh! That's perfect, thank you," I said a little overly-enthusiastically, opening the bag and taking the cookie out. It was still warm and I broke a piece off, stuffing it in my mouth for something to do. He watched me with amusement for a second, and I blushed. "Don't watch me eating. It makes me nervous." I gulped down some of my coffee.

"I wasn't, it was just cute how you get so excited by coffee and baked goods."

"My caffeine addiction knows no bounds," I replied.

As I straightened up, the design on my t-shirt became more apparent, and he smirked. "Journey? I didn't know you were a fan."

"Oh my God, shut up!" I said, flushing scarlet as I tried to suppress a giggle. "I literally ran out of the house in the first thing I found. My mother sent this stupid t-shirt to me a couple of years ago - she has a strange sense of humour."

"No, no," he said, smiling. "It looks good on you, seriously. You're working an eighties look today." He cocked one eyebrow and I burst out giggling, clapping a hand over my mouth.

"Uh, thanks I guess," I said after a moment, a hint of a smile still playing on my lips.

He made a face. "Did I just say you were 'working a look'? I think it's spending too much time around Charlotte reading her fashion magazines behind the bar. I must be absorbing the stupid phrases they use by osmosis or something."

"It's okay. It made me laugh, even if you're a terrible liar. I'm wearing the most ridiculous clothes I own, and I have no makeup on."

"You don't need it. You've got lovely skin," he said quietly, his eyes lingering on my face just a moment too long.

That was the thing about Jasper. He could be completely normal and jokey, and then he'd suddenly compliment me in that intense, sexy voice of his, and I'd turn to jelly. I felt a hint of warmth over my body, and felt ashamed at how much he affected me. Swallowing, I coughed nervously and he looked away, biting down on his lip as if he were aware he'd said something he shouldn't.

"You flatter me too much," I said lightly, trying to break the tension, and was relieved when his face creased into a smile.

"Just as much as you deserve to be, beautiful," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

I drank a little of mine for something to do, and felt the hazy, woolly feeling in my brain begin to lift as the caffeine worked its way into my system. I was aware that he was flirting with me, but with Jasper it was hard to gauge how serious he was being. He was that kind of guy, really, so it could have been entirely innocent. However, the possibility that there was a hint of meaning behind his words made them even more delicious. It dawned on me that he probably spent his whole time saying those kinds of things to girls at the bar, and yet, I was eating them up. _How pathetic. _I fiddled with my hair, trying to compose myself.

"Alright, that's enough of your Southern charm," I said sternly, taking out my notebook and opening it to the page where I'd last made some unintelligible scribbles. "I'm gonna work now."

"Of course. I shan't distract you any longer." He took a dog-eared copy of _One Hundred Years Of Solitude_ out of his back pocket and flipped it open to a page. By the look of it, he'd obviously read it many times. It was a book I'd liked, but the constant intertwining of the ordinary with the extraordinary, for me was just irritating. Having said that, I didn't like the idea of having to delve back into _To The Lighthouse_ either_._ I thought to myself that Esme would have a good laugh at me, considering the fact I always bemoaned my hatred for modernist novels.

"I didn't know you were a magical realism kind of guy." I couldn't resist commenting, as I always found his extensive reading habit an interesting contradiction. It wasn't as if people in his line of work lacked intelligence, but I thought it was unusual for a bartender to be so intellectually-minded.

"Oh, I like a lot of things," he said casually, running his tongue over his lips as he turned a page, and I realised I was gawping. I snatched my gaze away before he could notice me ogling him so blatantly, but, hell, he looked good. Really good. The sunlight brought out the mid-brown highlights in his waves of dark hair, making it shimmer slightly as it blew in the breeze. Somehow, plain jeans and a blue plaid shirt looked so much better on him than they would on anyone else. I couldn't help noticing that the the shirt had ridden up, and my eyes unconsciously strayed to the exposed skin between the hem of the shirt and his waistband. I could see a hint of his 'happy trail' as it disappeared into his waistband, and my breath caught. The next second, I blinked and turned away, coming back to my senses.

"I'm guessing you're not a fan, right?" he added, smiling to himself as he pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head.

"No, I do like Márquez, but I'm not sure I'd read him again," I replied, taking out my pen again in preparation to do some work. "I mean, not that I have anything against confusing, possibly crazy South American authors - it's totally cool if you like them."

Jasper laughed, sweeping his hair out of his eyes with a hand so the dark strands flopped back over his face once more. "Perhaps I want to escape from reality."

I met his eyes and, for the briefest moment, caught a hint of darkness beneath that easy smile and relaxed demeanour. Not for the first time, I wondered if I was imagining it. Seconds later, he looked down and his eyes swivelled to the cover of my book that was still lying in the grass untouched.

"Virginia Woolf?" He let out a low whistle from between his teeth. "Now that's tough. I've read some of her books, but I wouldn't be able to analyse them for the life of me."

"That's what I have to do, unfortunately," I said petulantly, a sigh escaping me. "Right now I'd be happy to go and shoot whoever invented stream-of-consciousness prose."

"Dujardin, I believe, in 1888," he said, enunciating the French perfectly. I sighed. "Although I think it's disputed whether he was the first person to employ the technique."

My eyes bugged out. That was something I certainly hadn't known, but Jasper did. I remembered Esme had once said something about having a friend whose general knowledge was second to none. My God, he was way too smart for what he was doing. I longed to get to the bottom of what that was all about, but I also knew that it was his business, and I shouldn't pry. He didn't pry with me, and for that I was grateful.

"Fucking hell, I sound like a pretentious bastard," he added, shaking his head as he laughed. "I just remember things, I guess. It's not like I spend my whole time poring over lauded works of fiction, I'm as happy to go out and have a few beers and watch sports."

"No need to justify yourself, you've just revealed you're a total nerd anyway. But I like it, feel free to tell me about random French dudes whose names I can't pronounce." I was teasing him, naturally, for it was customary for me to spend endless nights in my room poring over obscure novels and textbooks. I wasn't exactly a loner,

"That's all I know about him. Maybe I was just trying to impress you." He flashed me a wide smile, and again the melting warmth surged through my body from my toes to the roots of my hair.

"You like to drink beer and watch sports and you work in a bar." I laughed. "Don't you have enough of that all day?"

"Nah," he grinned, his tongue flicking over his teeth absentmindedly. I momentarily shuddered before I managed to get a grip on myself. "We don't have Sky Sports in _Phoenix_ anyhow. Pete can't be bothered with the trouble you get with football fans sometimes. Besides, you tend to get sick of drinking in your own workplace. I like to go to different places all over the city. I mean, not just in a drinking sense, either. I do other things than getting drunk."

I couldn't help smiling to myself. I didn't think I'd ever heard him be so animated about anything, but it seemed like he was determined to prove to me that he was interesting. And he had no need. I was completely and utterly fascinated by him, not to mention drawn to the feeling I got whenever I spent time around him. With him, I could just relax and be normal, notwithstanding my unfortunate attraction to him. However, I'd just have to learn to get over that. It didn't exactly help when he complimented me in that Southern drawl of his, and I felt like I'd melt into a puddle at his feet. I couldn't be sure that he felt something too, but already, a connection between us had been forged. Jasper was in my life, and that had to mean something.

Against all expectations, he was a nice, caring guy, and I hadn't met one of those in a long time. I knew someone must have hurt him too, and that was why I knew we couldn't just jump into something headfirst. I had no idea if our friendship would be sustainable without romance inevitably getting in the way, but if it did, we had to know we were ready. I couldn't take another heartbreak, and so I'd probably end up breaking his heart first, which he didn't deserve. I was too damaged for him, but maybe he was just what I needed. Only time would tell.

"I like to walk around the city and just look at the people," I said, feeling a little embarrassed at revealing my slightly dorky hobby.

"People are more interesting than anything, I think," he said carefully.

I took out my non-existent notes, screwing up my face. "I have no idea what I'm doing!"

"I highly doubt that," he said, watching me curiously.

"How do you know? I could be really terrible at my subject and barely even know how to read."

"I know that's not true," he countered, setting down his book. "The night I met you, you talked about all the books and authors you loved, and how much you liked the course you were doing."

"Do you just like intriguing me?" I said thoughtfully, my pen poised over the page.

"I wouldn't presume to think I'm that interesting," he said smoothly, leaning on his elbow while he held the book in his other hand. His eyes darted to my book, and he reached over and picked it up, holding it out to me. "Come on, make some notes for that assignment. I didn't come here to distract you. Work for say, the next hour, and then I can read to you or something. Or if you really want to be bored, I can talk to you."

"You're a hard taskmaster," I said, laughing. "Okay, okay, I'll work."

For the first ten minutes or so, I couldn't resist stealing glances at Jasper as I sipped at my coffee, apparently engrossed in his book with an earnest expression on his face. However, after that I finally began to pay my full attention to the content of my assignment. Surprisingly, I discovered that it wasn't as insurmountable as I'd feared, and over the next hour, I managed to rough out a outline that I actually understood. Somehow, Jasper's presence was soothing. Just having him next to me while he quietly turned pages and occasionally shifted his position in the grass meant something, and I was grateful that he'd come to see me. I was discovering slowly that Jasper was actually a really sweet guy, or at least he seemed like one. It was at odds with what I'd thought, but I was getting to genuinely like him as a person.

I'd be unsure about our vow to be friends, but it appeared to be working reasonably so far. Apart from the fact I just couldn't seem to stop myself being attracted to him. Even his flirtatious banter was enough to quicken my heartbeat, and perhaps the teasing bastard knew it. Esme had mentioned to me that Jasper was perceptive. However, I was concerned that it meant that he knew full well the feelings I had for him that went beyond friendship. But if he did, that still wouldn't change the situation. Just like the winter that I lived, I was frozen, unable to move forward as the man I'd loved in my past had never really said goodbye. And I hated him for that. Hot tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I managed to blink them away.

Just then, he looked up, closing his book between his palms, and his eyes narrowed.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, and I blinked frantically, trying to remove all traces of the fact I'd been on the verge of tears.

"I'm fine," I lied smoothly, plastering a forced smile on my face. He didn't look convinced, but I continued breezily nonetheless. "Look, I didn't do too badly," I added, flipping through the notebook to show him the several pages of notes I'd constructed in the past hour.

"See, I told you," he said, collecting our empty paper cups and getting to his feet to throw them in a nearby garbage can.

"You've got misplaced faith in me, perhaps," I said, a mischievous smile coming to my lips.

"Not even a bit." He shook his head, and sat down next to me, impulsively placing his hand in mine. I shivered at the contact, a warmth running through my body that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun overhead. "Don't be so hard on yourself."

He squeezed my fingers, and I longed to lace mine into his, pull him closer and kiss him. I remembered how soft his lips were against my own, the delicious taste of his mouth, and my breathing hitched. He was so close that I could see his long dark eyelashes that framed those gorgeous blue eyes of his. His eyelids flickered, and I pulled my hand free, closing my notebook that lay on my lap. As afternoon turned to dusk we gradually relaxed in each other's presence, until we were lying side by side in the grass. His hand touched mine, and for the briefest second, I wound my fingers round his, feeling the warmth of his skin on mine. The next second, he dropped my hand like he'd just burned himself on hot coals, but I noticed how he'd shivered at the contact.

"I should probably go," I said quickly, gathering up my books.

"Um, yeah, me too," he said, eyeing the darkening sky. "I should probably stop in at the bar seeing as I took the rest of the afternoon off." I struggled to get to my feet and he gave me a hand up.

"Thanks. Okay, I'll see you later," I said, flustered all of a sudden. I was surprised when Jasper leaned in and kissed my cheek, and had to stop myself from sighing. His lips were warm as they brushed my skin, and the touch was all too brief.

"Bye," he said with a smile, before turning to go the opposite way down the hill from me. I made my way home slowly, feeling accomplished in terms of my work, but so confused with regards to the man I'd spent the afternoon with.

...

The next week was fairly quiet for me. Miraculously, I managed to finish my essay and get it handed in by the three-day deadline, and I had Jasper to thank partly for that. He called me a couple of times in the days that followed and we chatted idly, but it was pleasant - he was someone I could really talk to. My quiet week was mostly spent studying in an attempt to cram a year's worth of knowledge into my brain. I attended an appointment with Kate, but I hadn't had anything new to say that time so she'd suggested another appointment in two weeks if that would suit me better. All my house mates seemed as busy with finals as I was, even Mike, which was saying something, and I saw little of them. I'd stopped to chat to Angela in the kitchen once or twice if she was around, but she was studying hard, too, so we kept it brief. Thankfully, she'd made no mention of that night I'd spent crying on her shoulder ever since the morning after, and for that, I was eternally grateful. She was such a good friend like that. Finals were swiftly approaching, and as it was my second year, they counted for a higher percentage of my final degree mark. That particular fact was playing on my mind non-stop, to the point where I barely thought of anything else. I'd managed to miss Esme the few times I'd been into the library - it must have been times when she wasn't working. I'd meant to call her and thank her for inviting me to the dinner party, but I just hadn't gotten around to it.

So when I walked into the foyer of the library and saw her in her usual position behind the desk, serving a student, I immediately felt somewhat guilty. She'd been a lovely hostess, and I should have taken the time to thank her properly. I hovered near the desk, waiting awkwardly until she finished discharging some books for the student she was dealing with. She looked up and saw me, and she smiled.

"Bella! Hi. I was wondering when I'd see you again."

"Hi, Esme," I said warmly, leaning against the counter. "How are you? I'm sorry I haven't gotten in touch with you since; I meant to call and thank you for a lovely evening."

She waved a hand. "Oh, don't worry about that. I was just glad that you came and met some nice people."

"Um, yeah. I had a great time, thank you."

She took off her small tortoiseshell-framed glasses and rubbed at them with a cloth, before putting them back on.

"There! Much better, now I can see you properly. And by the way, that's no problem. I love to throw parties when Carlisle's schedule allows. He's so busy at the minute I hardly see him." She pulled a face.

"That sucks. But I guess it's hard when you're still training."

"Yeah," she said, the calm expression returning to her face. "It's just how it is, really. His final rotation will be done soon, and then he'll be able to start training for his specialty."

"That's great."

"You've got finals coming up, right?" she said, leaning forward on the desk. "The exam madness has started." She gestured around to the study carrels I could see stretching to the far back of the first floor. True to form, nearly every one was occupied by an anxious-looking student chewing on their pen or reading a book so intensely they were hoping the words would just jump into their head by the force of concentration.

"Wow, this place is really happening," I said with a grin. "I've just come to find some new literary criticism books for the exams. I feel like all I do these days is study." Oddly, as I finished speaking, Esme was staring off into the distance, looking distracted. All at once, her eyes snapped back to meet mine, and her expression was probing.

"Would you like to go and get a cup of coffee? I'm done in about twenty minutes, and that should give you time to get your books."

"Sure, that sounds good," I said.

At that point, another student came over to the desk so I moved away. Esme shot me a friendly smile, but I couldn't help but wonder if her invitation had an ulterior motive. She'd seemed perceptive with regards to Jasper and I, and I realised that she most likely knew a lot more than she was letting on. I went and found my books, spending a while searching the shelves for the ones I wanted.

Maybe it was impossibly nerdy, but I adored the smell of libraries. The ancient, musty scent of the books, and the yellowing, faded pages of the heavily-read volumes seduced me somehow, drawing me in. The library had become something of a sanctuary to me in my two years thus far at the university, a place where I could escape the futile nature of my existence. On my return, Esme put the books through for me and we made our way to the campus coffee shop.

Our conversation over steaming mugs of caffeine was light and frothy at first as we discussed the general aspects of our lives. However, I knew it was only a matter of time before she enquired about Jasper, given that he seemed to be one of her best friends.

"Bella, the party at my house- that wasn't the first time you'd met Jasper, was it?" she said carefully, phrasing the inevitable question. Her expression was almost apologetic, but it seemed as if curiosity had finally gotten the better of her.

"No," I admitted, my stomach sinking. I felt really confused and awkward. What the hell did she know? Had he told her something about the one-night stand we had? I felt a deep blush rise up my neck and face.

To my utter surprise, she smiled. "I thought so. You see, I invited you because I thought he might like you. I mean, you're intelligent as well as beautiful. But then when I figured out that you knew him, I almost wanted to laugh."

"I know he doesn't usually go for girls like that," I said, amazed that I was managing to return her smile. "And thanks for the compliment."

"Bella," she said urgently, lowering her voice, "please don't think less of him for that. He's...well, just very guarded, and afraid of being hurt. In that way, he hasn't always spent his time with girls who are really his equal."

"You're very cryptic," I remarked, and she laughed lightly, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and combing her fingers through it.

"I don't mean to be, he's just, you know..."

"Private," I finished for her, and she nodded.

"It seems as though he's taken a liking to you. And let me tell you, that's unusual for him. I've never seen him look at a girl the way he was looking at you that night. He couldn't take his eyes off you. Although, you did look _gorgeous_. I absolutely loved that dress; it was so cute."

"Thanks." I felt immediately pathetic when a pleasant sensation squirmed in my stomach at hearing her previous words. It was dangerous for me to start thinking I was something special, that I was different. For how did I know that Jasper wouldn't just break it off if we did succumb to one another? "It was nice of him to walk me home."

"Oh, yes!" Esme giggled mid-sip, choking on her coffee slightly. "Sorry, do excuse me," she added, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. "He's a Southern gentleman through and through, let me tell you that. And if he hasn't always acted that way with you, well - it's probably because he's afraid of the way he feels. I know I said that before, but I stand by it."

I swallowed some more of my coffee, linking my fingers together around the cup as I thought. She'd said something in that vein to me at the party, which essentially confirmed that Jasper had told her about the little post-coital shutdown act he'd pulled. I was aware that Esme knew pretty much everything by that point, but I didn't particularly mind. I knew I could trust her to be discreet.

"It's complicated," I told her, struggling to explain. But I wanted to try, not least because I didn't yet have it straight in my own head. "I'm not really sure how I feel. He seems like he might be interested in me, but like you say, he is guarded. I sort of feel awkward, talking to you about this, given that you're good friends."

"I won't tell him," she said, shaking her head, and I felt reassured.

"I just really don't know how to explain it. It doesn't seem like he's ready for something more, and I don't know if I am either."

She took off her glasses and rubbed them with the edge of her shirt, and then looked back at me, her expression questioning.

"Maybe he needs someone like you, but he just doesn't know it yet," she said softly.

"I just don't think it's good for me to be getting involved with someone else. I loved someone, and they left me." I knew my wording was misleading, but it was just too hard to say the words 'he died.' And it wasn't entirely untrue. Edward had left me as surely as if he'd walked out, only he'd made it permanent. He had always been an intense, passionate person who dealt in absolutes, and tragically, that became the ending of his life. But besides not being able to say the words, I didn't really want the pity party to make an appearance. The conversation was heavy enough for a crowded coffee shop buzzing with activity, I didn't want to put more of a downer on it.

"I'm just not ready," I said, my voice barely a whisper. It was noisy all around us, but I knew that she heard. She could see that I didn't want to discuss that further, and didn't follow it up with questions about what had happened.

"I'm sorry," she told me, her face showing an understanding that didn't quite make sense to me. "I can understand if you don't feel ready."

"But when will I ever know if I am?" I blurted out, asking the question that had no answer to no-one in particular.

"I'm not sure anyone ever knows if they are. I love Carlisle very much, but at first, it wasn't always easy. When I met him, I'd just been through a really bad time. I grew up in Columbus, Ohio, and I know it doesn't sound smart, but when I was eighteen, I married my high school boyfriend, Charles." Esme paused, and her kind, beautiful face hardened just a fraction, the tension visible in her taut jaw. "Not the best idea, but I was young and I thought we were in love. He was so charming and sweet, and all the girls at school would swoon over him. I felt so lucky that he'd chosen me out of all of them. I'd only known him a few months, and my parents weren't happy about it, but we just did it anyway."

"I know that feeling," I said. Charlie hadn't been happy about me dating Edward, considering that Emmett used to cause trouble for him throughout the town. However, he'd grown to at least tolerate the quieter, shyer of the two brothers.

"Yeah." Esme smiled sadly. "I think when we're that young, we always like to think we know best. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the cracks started to appear. Charles liked to drink, and he'd fly into rages at the slightest thing. He didn't like it when I went out to see my friends, or even when I went to my teacher training course. And then he started to hit me. At first it was pretty rare, and I'd just put it down to him being drunk, or I wondered if I'd done something wrong. But it got worse, and eventually, he insisted I stay in the house the majority of the time, and I had to quit my course and give up my dream of becoming a teacher. Once he beat me so badly my whole face was puffy and unrecognisable, and I couldn't go out for weeks - of course, I'm sure that suited him fine." Her voice quavered, and I met her eyes, hoping my face was as sympathetic as I felt.

"I didn't know. That's awful, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. Things got better for me. I finally found the strength to leave him and I moved back in with my parents. Charles thankfully didn't come after me, but I didn't have the courage to go to the police. I wish I had now, I pray sometimes that he hasn't trapped another girl like that. I decided I wanted to get my English Literature degree, and my parents kindly paid for me to go to London to do it. And well, I just loved it so much I ended up staying and being a librarian at the very university I went to."

As she finished speaking, I didn't miss the fact that there were tears at the corners of her eyes, even through the optimism of her smile.

"I'm glad you found somewhere you were happy," I told her, averting my gaze as she patted her eyes with a tissue.

"I'm telling you this for a reason," she went on. "For the longest time, I couldn't trust any man. I threw myself into my studies at university, and made some friends, but I was quiet and withdrawn from what had happened to me. Any time a boy even showed interest in me, it terrified me, and I knew I could never return their advances. And then one day, I met Carlisle, a young medical student in his second year. He had so much compassion and enthusiasm for his chosen profession, it mesmerised me. And of course he still does."

Esme's eyes slid out of focus as she obviously drifted into happy daydreams of the moments when her and Carlisle had met. "It wasn't easy at first, but I found the words one day to tell him what had happened to me. He was so understanding and patient, and gradually I learned to trust. And now we're so happy. I can't imagine him not being a part of my life."

"That's lovely, Esme, really," I told her, hastily adding, "I mean, not the other parts, but finding Carlisle. You got your happy ending." I felt kind of dumb saying that as soon as the words had left my lips. I must have sounded hopelessly naïve and idealistic, but that wasn't how I meant it.

She shook her head, that easy sunshine smile I knew so well returning to her face. "Well, of course I'm happy, but I wouldn't necessarily describe it that way. I love my life, and the man I'm going to marry, but well, I was just lucky. I think we just have to do the best with what we have. Nothing's ever perfect, but it doesn't mean that we can't be happy. What I meant to say was just that I'm not sure anyone ever knows if they're ready. I didn't know if I was, but I knew that I cared for Carlisle. Somehow, I learned to let him in. Of course, I know I don't know anything about it, so I couldn't presume to tell you that you're wrong to be cautious. You're not. But sometimes you have to let your instincts guide you."

I was stricken by the fact that even sweet, gentle Esme had suffered so terribly. More than ever, I was aware that so many people had things in their past that they preferred to keep hidden. For whatever reasons, her words had reached inside me. I'd spent the months since Edward's death in limbo, afraid to remember yet terrified to forget. It hadn't been all that long since he'd died, of course, but it was only recently I'd begun to confront it. By finally allowing myself to experience my grief, I was beginning to realise that there was a way forward, and that one day, I could let him go. The fact that I had feelings for another man who wasn't my dead boyfriend still caused me no end of guilt, but it was becoming difficult to deny that those feelings existed. My instincts said yes, but my reason said no. The battle between my heart and my head had waged on within ever since that fateful night that Jasper Whitlock had walked into my life. Or rather, I'd walked into his, seeing as it was I who'd gone into his bar that night.

"I know," I told Esme slowly as I digested her words. "You might be right. I think sometimes it's best to let things happen as they happen." The sentence rolled off my tongue, and I considered its implications. It was perhaps best. She squeezed my hand kindly and we went on with our conversation as normal, discussing her wedding plans and search for the perfect dress.

Later that day, I tried to study in my room but the words seemed to swim on the page, blurring into one impenetrable chunk of useless information. Exasperated, I slammed the book shut. However, I should have known that escaping into the recesses of my imagination would only disturb me.

...

"_Isabella Swan, time to get up," Edward's teasing voice came through the darkness of the room. "You've got to go soon. I'm giving you a minute and then I'm opening the curtains."_

"_No," I groaned, squinting into the gloom through barely-open eyelids. "Please don't. I really will get up."_

_The bed springs sagged as he sat down beside me, and the rich aroma of coffee beans reached my sleepy nostrils. "I've got coffee," he tempted, waving the cup under my nose._

"_Now you're talking," I muttered, lifting myself into a sitting position with my elbows. He handed the cup to me and I took a cautious sip, luxuriating in the warmth of the beverage. "Have your parents gone to work already? Although, they seemed fairly cool last night. I think Charlie's only just about got over the idea of me staying here sometimes."_

_He laughed, and a glimmer of his signature smile I'd seen little of recently came to his face. Edward's infectious smile was a reassuring sight, and I hoped that perhaps he was finally starting to feel the effects of the medication prescribed to him. The night before, we'd talked for a long time about our college plans, the first time he'd agreed to discuss them in recent weeks. That, punctuated with some long, lazy lovemaking, had made for a beautiful evening, ending the drought in our love life the depression had temporarily caused. His parents had mentioned that they were thinking of buying an investment property in Hanover that the two of us could live in while we were at Dartmouth. Living together would be a big step, but it was one I felt we were ready for._

_Things were getting better. He actually looked purposeful this morning. Not happy, exactly, but like he had something to look forward to. Leaning over, he ruffled my hair affectionately._

"_It's a bird's nest," I protested, scowling. He shook his head, and for a moment the calm mask slipped. There was a concealed sadness behind his eyes I wasn't even sure I'd registered, because in a moment it was gone._

"_You're beautiful, Bella," he told me, his green eyes flickering with their usual intensity as his gaze met mine. Leaning forward, his lips brushed my cheek, and I couldn't help but sigh. It was tempting to just blow off work and spend the morning in bed with him, but I couldn't let my co-workers down like that._

_Mere minutes later, I left with a cherry Danish in my hand and Edward kissed me, his hand at the small of my back as he pulled me close to him. Getting in to my car, I paused before starting it and waved to him where he stood in the shadow of the front door. He smiled, and for once I didn't feel guilty for leaving him. As I turned the key and the engine roared to life, I looked back at him one more time, and blew a kiss I wasn't sure he could see before I drove away._

_...  
_

I wasn't to know that it was the last time I'd ever see him, hold him, touch him. If I'd known, I wouldn't have gone to work. If he'd just said one thing that had made me uneasy, I would have stayed with him and stopped him from making the worst mistake he'd ever make. But there had been nothing. I'd turned it over and over in my mind, and never drawn any conclusions. That same evening I'd be sitting around the kitchen table with his parents, Charlie and a police officer, thrust into a surreal nightmare. And he'd be gone. The image of his smiling, calm face in the doorway as I drove away had haunted me for so long, but it wasn't as sharp as it had once been. The delicate planes of his features weren't as clearly defined in the soft focus that I saw my old life in, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

I thought back to what Esme had said earlier that day, about looking beyond the imperfections. I knew how true that was. Edward may have been chronically insecure, anxious and prone to bouts of depression but that didn't matter. I loved him, and that was the one thing that made all the imperfections fade away into insignificance. I was far from perfect myself, but he'd never even seemed to notice. More than anything, I feared that I was starting to forget those brief glimpses of perfection that only two imperfect people could create together. The thought that I was losing even the poor imitation of him that my mind created terrified me, for what would I have left of him if I could no longer imagine him? I had pictures, of course, but they were an even paler echo of the man Edward had been, and the man he should have become.

The numb ache was spreading throughout my entire body, and the cigarette I'd smoked just minutes ago hadn't done its job. Ignoring my feelings of guilt and self-loathing, I took the box from under my bed and replaced my emotional wounds with physical ones. Tears sprang to my eyes as I gave in to everything I'd tried so hard to resist. A familiar feeling twisted in the pit of my stomach, and I recognised it as pure and simple guilt. I'd been punishing myself more than I'd even realised. In some sick, twisted way, I felt that I deserved the pain for wanting Jasper even while I longed to have my boyfriend back. I knew I'd have to tell Kate that I'd hurt myself again, and I hoped she wouldn't be as disappointed in me as I was in myself. I'd been trying to kid myself that I was doing well, but at that moment, I'd never felt so alone. I found one of Edward's old sweatshirts that I'd taken at the bottom of my wardrobe, and I lay down, wrapping my arms around it. I had to feel close to him somehow, even if his sweet scent had long dissipated from the fibres of the fabric. I buried my face in it, inhaling a hint of something that was just out of reach.

"Oh, Edward. Why?" I whispered, my tears soaking the sweatshirt as I clung to the one piece of him I had left.

* * *

**I hope their meeting was everything you'd hoped for! Again, I hope people don't get too angry at me for Bella backsliding a little, because she's only recently allowed herself to fully grieve. It'd be natural for her to swing between highs and lows, and recovery can be a long process. It's hard, but she is starting to heal by confronting it. It doesn't mean that this fic is going to be all misery, though - they'll find what they need in each other. I love all those who've stuck with this and I hope you like the direction I'm taking these two in.**

**Some of you have asked when I'm going to reveal Jasper's past. I am going to, but I have specific reasons for not having done it yet. I've dropped a few hints, but you will find out very soon - I know exactly when, so please be patient. Reviews are like the best candy. Thanks for reading! xxx**


	14. Light With A Sharpened Edge

**Here's another chapter of ICF for you all. I apologise that it's taken so long time, but I'm never the world's fastest writer and things have just been crazy busy of late. I just started a new job last week so I've had very little time to write of late. My beta SunKing has also been occupied finishing the second book in her mythological fantasy series, but she found the time to go over this chapter for me (she even started it on her birthday, that's how awesome she is). It's the sequel to The Kingdom, called Morning Star, and I'm super excited to read the next installment!**

**I hope you all like this chapter, I worked hard on it. As a warning, some parts may be tough to read but as a whole, I hope it gives you a further insight into Jasper.**

**As always, thankyou thankyou THANKYOU for all the reviews, faves and alerts. They are all so appreciated and I'm amazed at all you guys who helped me break 400 reviews recently. I love you all! Hopefully you'll all forgive me for being massively unoriginal and using another song title from The Used as the chapter. In my defence, I like the song and I think it fits.  
**

***** Love to Alverdine, SunKing, SydneyTwiMum, venis-envy and everyone else I WC'd with to get this done. ****

**

* * *

**_**Song: The Story - 30 Seconds To Mars**_

**Chapter 14: Light With A Sharpened Edge**

**JPOV**

I scrolled through my contacts to find the familiar number and heard the click as it connected. It rang several times before she finally answered and I could breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hello?" Bella sounded kind of harassed, and I immediately wondered if I'd picked the best moment to call.

"Uh, hi, it's Jasper," I said awkwardly, wondering why I was so nervous, considering I'd already spoken to her on the phone several times.

"Oh, hi!" She sounded genuinely pleased to hear from me, which gave me the confidence to ask her the question I'd originally been planning to ask.

"Well, me and some friends are going out on Friday night, and I was just wondering if you'd like to come?" I asked, the words tumbling out in a rush.

"Um..." She sounded unsure, and I wondered if I'd been too forward. But wasn't that what friends did - invited each other out to things? There were going to be plenty of other people there, so it wouldn't be too pressured. I wanted to introduce Bella to my friends, and I hoped she'd enjoy herself too. "Okay then, I will. I'm kind of busy with finals but I think I can spare a night."

...  
The plan was to go to the _Electric Ballroom_ to see Face Punch, some terrible local band that Pete knew somebody in. We tended to go out and see bands a fair bit. It was a fun venue with a great atmosphere, so I'd been there a lot even if the act playing wasn't something I liked. I met up with Bella around the corner from the venue and once we were inside, I found the group and introduced her. She and Irina immediately struck up a conversation, and I couldn't help but cringe a little. I was sure she was probably grilling her about whether or not she was fucking me. I knew that Irina was an irrepressible gossip, so I'd have to endure being teased about the nature of my relationship with Bella at a later date.

Bella seemed to fit in well with my friends, which was nice – I hadn't been wrong that it would be good for her to meet them. It dawned on me that I was almost behaving as if she were my girlfriend, even if I wasn't introducing her in that sense. However, from the looks that the others shot me, it was clear that they noticed that our relationship had potential to be more than just a platonic friendship.

When the band came on, they were pretty dire- some terrible indie-rock outfit that really needed to learn how to play their instruments properly. My ears wanted to run away screaming, and by the looks on the faces of the others, they weren't massively impressed, either. Bella stood beside me the whole time, and every so often, I'd smile at her,

"The band blows, right?" I said to her, smirking slightly, and she laughed.

"Oh, thank God you didn't like it!" she exclaimed in relief. "I thought I was going to have to listen to you going on about how great you thought they were and just nod awkwardly."

I stared at her for a moment, shaking my head. It wasn't about the fact that she had assumed I had such poor taste in music, even if that privately amused me. I just couldn't help being disconcerted by how comfortable I felt around her. It wasn't usual for me to feel so close to someone I'd only met a few times. I'd already let my guard down around her, and it was almost too easy to confide in her. I would have to consider the implications of that at some point, even if that wasn't something I wanted to do. She was stunning and interesting and could hold a good conversation, but it was more than that. We shared an inexplicable connection, and it was becoming more and more difficult to deny it to myself. That sounded pretty hokey when I arranged the words in my head, but I couldn't think of a better way to describe it. I just couldn't help but be around her, like a moth being drawn towards a flame that glowed brighter every time I spent time with her. I was slowly learning new things about Bella, but I wanted to know more. And frankly, there were lots of other things I wanted, but I was still wrestling with myself over the potential consequences of those things.

"Terrible, aren't they?" Irina said, shaking her head in disbelief, and I was returned to reality.

Pete suddenly appeared at me side. "Great idea coming to see these guys, right?" I said in a sarcastic tone.

He laughed loudly, and I was pleased that our working relationship and friendship appeared to be back on track since we'd aired things out a few days before. "My bad. James is a nice guy, but the band absolutely sucked ass. Apologies for putting you all through that. We do have good taste, Bella. Honestly."

"I'll take your word for it," she told him with a grin, and I was pleased to see her looking so relaxed and confident. She fit in well with my friends.

"Would you like another drink?" I asked her. "I'll get it."

"Yes, please," she said graciously, her eyes slightly unfocused.

I smiled to myself, noticing she was probably a bit on the tipsy side. Perhaps it wasn't best to get her another drink, but then, she seemed to be enjoying herself and I didn't want to be a killjoy. At any rate, I would certainly make sure that she got home safely at the end of the night.

"Vodka soda."

I knew the barkeep, so luckily I was served quickly despite the fact the venue was heaving. I handed Bella her drink and took a sip of my beer, draining almost half of it instantly. It was getting hot with all the people in there and I was pretty thirsty. We talked for a little while, just shooting the breeze. Irina latched onto a nearby guy and immediately went off into some dark corner with him. I snorted. _Typical her. _

"You're really quite beautiful, you know," Bella suddenly slurred, hiccuping into her drink, and I laughed. She was definitely more than a bit toasted if she was saying things like that to me. It wasn't the first time someone had told me that, but it hadn't happened to me in a long time. It was nice to hear, though, of course.

"Look who's talking. You aren't so bad yourself."

She smiled slowly, the corner of her lips turning until her smile was in full bloom. The pale glow of her smooth complexion in the dim room, and her slightly pink cheeks coupled with that gorgeous smile did something to my insides. Her lips parted a fraction, and they were rosy and just barely moist. I couldn't help but entertain the possibility of kissing her. I toyed with a strand of her hair that had slipped from her ponytail, and she stepped closer. Her fingers were white where she was gripping her glass so firmly, and I wondered if she was nervous as I was. It wasn't just the four beers I'd had, or the way she smiled that drove me to action; it was more than that. She made me feel happy in a way I'd almost forgotten I could be.

I knew then that I was going to kiss her. My feet shuffled forward, but she didn't recoil from my closeness. Her head tilted the side, and I let my fingers trace her cheek as I moved in so close I could feel her breath on my lips. She smelled like vodka and sweetness and something irresistible. It would have happened, too, if she hadn't been distracted by something outside of her field of vision.

Irritated by the fact she'd turned away at what would have been the crucial moment, I followed her gaze and landed on the sight of Pete and Charlotte. They were sitting nearby on bar stools, and she was slumped against him as his fingers played with her blonde curls absent-mindedly.

"Mm, I love you,; you know that, right?" he murmured in her ear, and she smiled at him radiantly, raising her head to kiss his cheek tenderly.

I turned my face away, embarrassed to be privy to such an intimate moment between two people so obviously in love. Especially considering they usually spent their time together engaged in good-natured banter. They'd been married a while, and it was rare to see Pete being so tender. It made me feel weird. The truth was, I missed being like that with somebody - sweeping back a girl's hair from her face with the pad of my thumb, placing a kiss on her cheek, a whispered 'I love you' in her ear. My gaze wandered over to Bella, who I hadn't realised was standing right beside me, and as I met her eyes, I saw they were full of tears. She'd noticed the idyllic scene we were inadvertently intruding upon, and it had obviously affected her too.

"Bella?" I addressed her quietly, my voice etched with concern. I reached out to touch her shoulder in a comforting gesture, but she shrugged it off.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," she muttered abruptly, trying to blink the tears away, and with that, she turned on her heel and rushed out.

I wasn't about to let her go like that, though - not after last time. With an exasperated sigh, I slammed my half-finished pint down on the bar and went to follow her. As I pushed through the throngs of people crowding the pub's entrance, my eyes flickered around, looking to see if she was somewhere around. I stepped through the doors out into the bitterly cold night, shivering as the biting wind hit me. The immediate area around the front was crowded with groups of smokers, huddling on the edge of the kerb to keep warm. I inhaled the surrounding air and thought how badly I wanted a cigarette right then, but Bella was my priority. I had to know where she'd gone, for I was afraid of what she'd do if she was alone.

An icy trickle that had nothing to do with the cold crept up my spine as I realised I felt some responsibility for her. Whatever she wanted me to believe, she was fragile and I didn't ever seem to be able to get it right. I'd envisioned it as a fun night for us both, a chance for her to meet some nice people and relax for a change, and instead I'd only made everything worse. I should have known that it was going too well, that something had to give. The fact that Pete and Charlotte's romantic interlude had clearly triggered something inside Bella was an obvious indicator to me that her emotional wounds ran far deeper than I'd imagined. There had to be more to it than simple heartbreak. What was she hiding?

Scanning the pavement, I found no trace of her and my sense of foreboding grew. Where had she gone? I rounded the corner and saw an opening to a side street just up ahead. I knew I had to check it. The small street was deserted- no sound but the intermittent whisper of the wind. I stayed still for a moment, listening, and my ears caught a small sound that could have been a sob. On the corner up ahead, there was a broken-down building that had evidently been a convenience store of some kind, but had long since been closed and was boarded up. I reached it quickly, and as I moved around the other side to the doorway, I saw her.

Bella was slumped in the doorway, hands wrapped round her knees, her head bowed, quietly weeping. My face crumpled as I saw her - she looked so small, so broken, almost like a little girl. I wasn't sure if she'd let me. I wasn't sure if I could. But I wanted to try my best to comfort her. As I took a step forward, my shoe crunched on some broken glass that lay on the concrete, and she looked up in shock.

"J-Jasper?" Her voice was weak, tremulous as she looked up, then dipped her head, clearly ashamed that I was seeing her in this state.

"Hey. You okay?" That sounded so stupid - clearly, she wasn't in any way okay. However, the sight of her in such pain distressed me so much I had trouble forming the right words. She didn't answer and stared past me, the tears still silently falling down her face.

Not knowing what else to do, I moved and sat down beside her on the freezing cold stone of the step. She grudgingly moved to let me sit there, but she still wouldn't look at me. Tentatively, I touched her arm. She hadn't worn a coat, and her skin felt so cold, literally shivering under my touch. Despite the fact I was pretty cold myself, I removed my coat and offered it to her.

Even through her tears, she laughed. "You don't have to do that."

"Yes I do," I told her, and she complied, letting me tuck the coat round her. She sighed, her head disappearing into the neck of the coat as she burrowed into it.

"Hiding under there?" I said.

"I feel like such an idiot." Her words were muffled, but I understood them perfectly.

I shifted, feeling really uncomfortable on the hard ground while I tried to think of something to say that wasn't contrived. I didn't think she was an idiot at all, just a girl in a great deal of pain that I could barely even understand. Bella didn't seem to have many people to confide in, but if she wanted to, she could confide in me. She didn't have to tell me why she was sitting in a doorway crying her eyes out, but I had a feeling it was the same thing that caused her to harm herself. With a pang, I remembered the scars on her thighs and hoped that she hadn't done it since.

"You're not. Maybe you don't want me to be here, but I couldn't let you just sit here on your own. It's not safe out here when it's so late."

"It's not that I don't want you here." She emerged from the coat, tucking it round her shoulders with one hand. I noticed that one of her hands was clutched in such a solid fist that the skin was white where it was stretched out over the bones. I wondered why that was, but then she spoke again and I was distracted.

"I just don't like people knowing that I get like this. I may look normal on the surface, but on the inside, I'm...ugly." The last word came out as a whisper, and I could see that it cost her a great deal to say it.

"_Nothing_ about you is ugly, trust me on that," I told her, and then I put my arm round her. I'd expected that she'd immediately shrug it off, but not that time. She leaned into me, and I was grateful of the contact, given that I was really starting to feel the cold myself. I turned my gaze to to her hand that remained in a rigid fist. What the hell was that about? I took the hand, and she froze, trying to pull it back.

"Get off me!"

"What's in your hand?" I asked, starting to get worried as she was being so cagey.

Her eyes met mine, and they were weary, as though she no longer cared if I knew what she was holding. The pressure of her fingers slackened, and a set of keys fell from her hand. On her palm, they'd left angry red marks where she'd been squeezing them so tightly, but they hadn't yet drawn blood. _Oh God. _I should have noticed sooner, or done something. She'd been hurting herself, even while I'd been sitting right there next to her. I took her hand and traced the marks ever so gently, so as not to hurt her.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a tear splash onto my coat, and she choked out a sob. I had no idea how I should respond, but I brought her hand up and kissed the marks, a childish action to sooth them. Bella gasped, and I realised I was crossing the line into inappropriate behaviour. However, it wasn't in the slightest bit motivated by my attraction to her - I was just being kind. Her breath caught as my lips touched her skin, but I pretended not to notice. Just like she hopefully wouldn't hear how fast my heart was fluttering in my chest.

"You're kissing it better?" She was almost smiling, and I was starting to feel a bit like a fool.

"Now you must think I'm really a freak, as if you didn't when we..." She paused, blushing furiously, and I knew exactly what she meant. "Oh God, this is so embarrassing."

"Don't sweat it," I said, running my other hand through her hair in a soothing gesture. "This isn't even my favourite t-shirt, so you can get it as wet as you like."

I dropped my hand back to her palm that still lay open. "Why do you do that to yourself?" I asked, circling the marks that were only just starting to fade.

"Because I don't know how not to."

"God, Bella. What happened to you?"

"You won't know what to say, and you'll just feel awkward."

I took her shoulders in my hands, turning her towards me so her gaze was locked on my face. "Try me."

"You tell me something first," she countered. I froze. That I hadn't expected.

"What do you want to know?"

"Just tell me something real. Something true. Like, where did you grow up?"

"Well, my Mom's family are from Texas, but she moved to Macon, Georgia, so I grew up there."

"You're Southern through and through, then," she said with a light smile, rubbing at her tear-streaked cheeks. However, there was something hidden behind her eyes that I couldn't quite ascertain. That feeling grew when she took my wrist and squinted at my arm.

"You've got tiny scars on your arms," she surmised. I knew she'd notice eventually. A fair few people had, but I'd brush off the question unless I knew them well enough to explain.

"Not just my arms." Even though it was really cold, I lifted the hem of my shirt to show her the marks that dotted my torso. Her hand tentatively reached out to touch one before she drew back, and I pulled my top back down. "Cigarette burns."

"I never even noticed," she marvelled, her eyes softening. "How did you get those?"

"Let's just say I never really had much of a father. He was a drunk, and he used to knock my Mom about. One night, I guess I just got sick of sitting at the top of the stairs pretending that I couldn't hear her screaming and begging him to stop. And then I'd hear it afterwards when he said he was sorry, and he loved her, and he'd just had a bad day, and he was drunk..." I swallowed hard as I finally found the courage to meet her eyes. They were pitying, but not in a way that irritated me. She knew I had more to say, and was just letting me talk.

"One night I just lost it. I saw him knock her head against the wall until she passed out, and I tried to fight him. I was only eight and obviously couldn't touch him in strength. You can imagine what happened next."

Bella's jaw was taut, and she let out a sharp intake of breath. "God, Jasper, I didn't even know. That's just so.."

I tried to look at her, but I was unable to take my eyes off the filthy concrete of the doorstep where we sat. I was afraid to meet her gaze for fear of what I'd see in it, so I just kept talking.

"We never saw him after that, he just cleared off then and there. I guess he was afraid my Mom would call child services or the police and report him. He needn't have worried, really. Whatever he did to her, for some reason she'd still loved him. When he left that night, it was like she just gave up then and there. I pretty much had to fend for myself. I got her up in the morning before I went to school, made the meals, and tried to do the best I could, but it wasn't easy. We didn't have a lot of money and it was hard to make ends meet.

"On a good day she'd get dressed, put on makeup, sometimes even make the dinner. But on bad days she'd sit there slumped in her robe, drinking glass after glass of vodka. It was like she couldn't even hear me if I spoke. Over time, she got sicker, until she couldn't do much at all. When I was eleven, she got really sick and had to go into hospital. I didn't understand at the time, but she bled to death from esophageal varices - swollen veins that just suddenly start to bleed if you have advanced liver disease. The doctors tried their best, but they couldn't save her."

…

_I opened the front door to the blaring sound of a daytime chat show. The teacher had kept me late today for not getting to class on time this morning, but I'd just said nothing and eventually she'd let me go with a sigh. _

"_Mom?" I called, hoping she'd answer. _

_I was always worried because of that time where I got home and she was just lying on the sofa fast asleep, but it didn't even sound like she was breathing. She smelled funny, like that really strong clear stuff she drank sometimes - vodka, it was called. She wouldn't wake up even when I microwaved some spaghetti and brought it to her. She'd apologised for scaring me and said she was fine, but it had frightened me._

_I was happy to see when I entered the kitchen that she was at least sitting at the table, and she'd put on some clothes instead of just wearing her robe. She had a glass of that clear liquid in her hand though, which made me feel nervous. I really hated it when she drank that. It made her words jumbled and sometimes she'd get angry, or worse, she'd just cry and cry. I never knew what to do when she was like that._

_"How was school today?" she said, not taking her eyes off the TV. She raised the glass to her lips and took a sip, her face twisting slightly as she swallowed._

_"It was okay. I'm sorry I was late home, the teacher kept me back."_

_"Oh, right," she said distractedly, taking another drink._

_"Mom, please don't drink that. It just makes you sick."_

_"Stop it, Jasper. I'm fine here. Just go do your homework."_

_"But we don't have homework on Wednesday, I told you. It's only Tuesday and Thursday."_

_She looked at me, and her eyes were all blank, like she didn't even realise who I was for a second. I remembered that my Mom's eyes used to look all pretty, so blue that they almost sparkled. Aunt Maria always used to say I had her eyes, too. But that was a long time ago, and we didn't see Aunt Maria any more. Whenever I asked why, Mom told me it wasn't for me to worry about. I hated it when she said things like that._

_"I'm sorry. I should have remembered," she said, and she reached out to ruffle my hair. It was a good day today. At least she was talking, not just staring off into space. I felt my body relax slightly, and went to the fridge to see if she might have got something for dinner._

_..._

I blinked, struggling with the glimpse of my ten-year-old self I'd just seen in my mind's eye. For a moment, I was still that same scared, insecure little boy, trying to make sense of all the burdens that weighed so heavily on his young shoulders.

"Jasper, I'm so, so sorry," she whispered, and I could see a tear glistening at the corner of her eye. Her hand closed around my shoulder, and she squeezed gently.

It was hard to think of these things, much less even talk about them. I had no idea why I was even telling Bella now, except that she'd wanted to know something that was real for me. I wasn't looking for pity, as I was giving her the facts stripped bare.

"That must have been awful for you," she added, and even though it was something I'd heard people say before, I knew that from her, it was heartfelt. "But you were really brave to stand up to your father, you know."

I sighed. "Thanks," I managed to say. "I don't really feel like that, but thanks for saying it anyway." I took a shallow, rattling breath, trying to process my thoughts to explain it to her better. Just knowing that she cared was enough, somehow, for me to keep going, no matter how difficult it was to speak.

Some of the moments in the time immediately following my mother's death remained hazy, but the hours after her death were still as lucid for me as they had been then. The doctor told me that she wasn't going to wake up, and they'd done everything they could, that he was so sorry, but I hadn't wanted to hear it. I'd screamed until my lungs felt like they'd burst, and tried to hit him before he'd gently prised me off him, his eyes full of pity as they looked upon me. I recalled a glass of milk being pressed into my hand by a well-meaning nurse, and then throwing up all over her as my stomach revolted at the thick, sweet liquid. It was a such a vivid memory that even right then I felt nausea swirling in my abdomen. I'd run, afraid of being reproved for it, and they had police combing the area for me. Of course, I hadn't gotten far before collapsing from exhaustion and grief, and a police officer quickly found me under a bench in a local park, shivering.

"Things did get better for me," I told Bella, shooting her a reassuring smile. I hoped she didn't notice just how brittle it was on my face. "They contacted my Aunt Maria. Her and my Mom hadn't spoken in a few years- probably a lot to do with my father. She hadn't seen me in a long time, but I went to live with her in Atlanta. I kind of went off the rails for a few years academically, but I was okay in the end. And Maria was great with me, she treated me like her own son. I don't speak to her as much as I should, really."

Talking to Bella was far too easy - it was almost effortless. I knew I was in danger of revealing far too much about myself, so it was time to bite my tongue. "I'm sure the irony is amusing," I added. "My parents had alcohol problems, and I work in a bar for a living."

"Is that what you've always done?" A half-smile came to her lips.

"Well, when I was a kid I went to school," I said, evading the question. "So now you know a lot about me. Trust me, it's not something I like to talk about, but somehow with you I don't mind." I met her eyes and shot her a brief smile which she returned. "Now it's your turn."

"Quid pro pro, Doctor Lecter?" she joked, despite the fact her voice was shaking, and I sighed at her attempts to turn the conversation away from herself.

"Bella," I said quietly. "Come on."

She took a deep breath, shuddering. "This will sound stupid, but it isn't like it sounds. My...boyfriend died," she said in a rush, and a noisy sob immediately followed it. I froze, trying to process what she'd just told me but unable to just then. All along, I'd been looking into eyes hollowed out by grief, and I'd never even known. Wave upon wave of pity crashed over me as I pulled her close to me, holding her tight. The contact felt alien to me, as it had been such a long time since I'd held anyone in such an intimate way. And at the same time, I ached to feel her close to me. I held her against my chest, stroking her hair with my free hand.

"Why the hell would I think that sounds stupid?" I murmured, shocked that she would even think that.

"B-because people might think it was just some stupid high school romance. But it wasn't. I loved him," she sobbed, soaking my shoulder with her tears. "He was supposed to be here, we were supposed to go to college together. I wanted to be a writer, and he was going to be a composer. We had a plan, and then he just...decided to leave me."

_Suicide? _The word circled in my brain, but I couldn't bring myself to verbalise it in case it upset her further. If my heart had been pounding before, after that it felt like it was about to beat out of my chest. Bella was so much more fragile than I'd ever thought she was. What had happened to her was so much more terrible than I could have even envisioned. She'd lost the man she loved, and through his own doing.

At that moment, I hated myself even more for the way I'd treated her that night. She clearly wasn't dealing with what had happened to her. Not that I was one to talk, but still. I'd never felt so wretched, while simultaneously grateful that I could be the one to comfort her.

"He got depressed, and for a while it didn't seem to get any better. But things were going to be okay, and I thought he'd started to turn a corner. Instead, one day when I went to work, he – he took some pills, and I found him," she went on, her words heavy with the force of her sobs.

I exhaled sharply, unable to find the words to express how bad I felt for her to have gone through something so horrific.

Outside the doorway, I noticed the rain was coming down, falling softly as she wept. Bella drew back from my embrace a little, and her eyes looked up into mine. Her expression was unfathomable, but she raised her head so her face was just inches from mine. Her hair was bedraggled, her face streaked with traces of makeup that her tears had washed away, but she'd never looked more beautiful. She reached up, her fingers tracing my jaw line.

"You need to shave," she muttered, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Mm-hm," I replied, still unmoving while she drew even closer. My mind was screaming at me to move away, but still I didn't move. Suddenly, she blinked, and just like that, the spell was broken. She lowered her head, and rested it against my chest. I breathed a sigh of relief. I seriously needed my head examined or something. _A girl tells me her boyfriend died, and I think about kissing her? _Momentarily, I trembled, hoping that she hadn't noticed.

"If you've got a cigarette, that'd be great, actually. I've run out."

I didn't know how to make her feel better, but cancer-causing sticks? Those I could provide.

"I'm so sorry. If I'd known, I never would have..." I said, instantly regretting my choice of words.

Her face fell. "Never would have what?" she said, pulling back from me. We both knew exactly what I'd meant, so I didn't answer her rhetorical question. But at the same time, I didn't mean it. I'd taken advantage of a girl who was hurting, but then, it had been what she wanted at the time too. I handed over the requested cigarette and lit it for her, idly watching the end glow dimly in the faintness of the street lights.

"It made me feel better," she said, tapping her fingers so flecks of grey ash fell to the pavement. "At least for the there and now. Don't apologise for it, please, or I'll feel even more embarrassed."

"Okay, but I just wish I hadn't been so rude," I said slowly, exhaling impatiently as I failed yet again to articulate myself sufficiently. "I'm sorry, you don't deserve that. I was cold and callous and just..."

"Seriously, don't," she whispered, her face taut. The brown eyes found mine, and they were full of unspoken questions I had no answers for. "This is exactly what I don't want. It's why I never tell people. They treat me differently, like some fragile flower that might burst into tears over the slightest thing."

"Bella, this is _not_ the slightest thing," I told her firmly, taking her chin in my hand and tipping it upwards so she was forced to look at me. "It's awful, and you shouldn't have to keep it inside. I mean, you can talk to me if you want."

I understood better than she knew, even if I couldn't tell her that. The pain of loss that rips your soul apart, leaving nothing behind but emptiness and broken shards that you can't bear to piece together again. Yes, I knew what that was like.

"Thank you," she said slowly. "I don't know why I told you. I guess I just wanted to tell someone for a change. And I guess I didn't want you to think I was crying over nothing. "

"Like I said, it isn't nothing." I was silent for a moment, listening to nothing but the sound of our breathing in the stillness of the night.

Bella turned to me and bit down on her lip, her tongue nervously darting out before she spoke again. "If I asked you to, would you take me home right now?" Her words were careful and considered, almost businesslike, but I swear my heart stopped.

"Y-you're drunk," I spluttered, trying to evade a response. "Look, if that happens, it's not going to be in response to this. You want this for all the wrong reasons. And besides, I'd be taking advantage of you in the worst sense."

"If?" she echoed, raising her eyebrows, and I felt my face grow hot. "Sorry. I never should have said that. I was just being facetious, I guess."

_Like I believed that for even a second._ And I wished she wouldn't say things like that - it was a dangerous request, given how alluring I found her. It was a strangely pleasant idea, despite its ethical implications.

"It's okay," I said carefully. "And I didn't mean 'if' like that, I just said the wrong thing."

"Oh, I know," she said, a little too seriously, and despite her tear-streaked face, I got the feeling she was making fun of me. "Look, I know I'm a mess right now, but I'm not usually like this. I can cope. I thought I was coping, but then sometimes it just hits me and I..." She trailed off into noisy sobs again and I fell silent, just letting her cry it out.

"Sometimes it just hits you."

"I don't need to be rescued, Jasper," she said eventually, lifting her head from my now-damp chest.

"Believe me, I know that," I said carefully, combing my fingers through her hair absent-mindedly. "Why don't I take you home now?"

She nodded. I stood and gently helped her to her feet. She didn't live too far from where we were, and the short journey home passed in silence. She handed my coat back to me, her expression somewhat bashful as she blinked at me from beneath her heavily smudged eyes.

"Thanks." I knew that word was for more than lending her my coat. She'd appreciated that I was there, even if she couldn't admit it.

"Anytime," I replied, then realised how that sounded. She frowned, and I hastily backtracked. "You know what I mean. I mean I'm glad I was able to find you. You shouldn't have been on your own then."

"Please don't do that to yourself," I said awkwardly, knowing that it wouldn't be really be much help to her, but feeling like I had to mention it regardless.

"I try." Her voice is tremulous, and as she unlocked the door with shaking hands, I considered inviting myself in. She could have probably used some company, and so could I. But I knew very well that wouldn't be a good idea. Considering what she'd just told me, I knew Bella was suffering terribly and I didn't want to complicate things further by making her feel guilty about spending time with another guy who wasn't her dead boyfriend.

My walk home brought me no peace, but that was hardly surprising after everything we'd discussed. I was shocked that she'd been hurt so badly, and I was almost glad I hadn't kissed her. It had only been two years or so for her, and I didn't want to try and replace another man.

_How do I even know that _I'm_ ready?_

I'd learned to suppress every feeling, but I couldn't with Bella. That meant that my ugly, painful feelings went hand in hand with every wonderful one I felt when we were together. When I got in, I took a long hot shower that warmed through ever freezing muscle from the inside out, and then stumbled to bed. Unfortunately, sleep did not find me, and I was forced to let my mind loose in processing its mixed-up thoughts.

I knew Bella didn't think I was a monogamous type of guy, and I wondered if it would amuse her to know deep down, I truly was. I'd spent six years of my life with the same woman, and I'd thought all I'd ever want was her. Even though fate had seen to it that neither of us had been able to pursue the brilliant futures we'd once longed for, it had brought us such intense happiness. Only for a time, of course, because events beyond our control had torn us asunder. It was a remarkable thing, how two people who'd shared the utmost love and respect for each other could come to regard one another with only contempt and hatred.

Although, the last one was only true for her side. I'd never hated her, and I couldn't help but wonder sometimes if she still hated me, whatever she was doing now. Hopefully at least one of us was making a success of our life somehow. I was still struggling to even piece together the broken shards of everything we'd lost that one day she walked out. She'd brought my whole world tumbling down like a poorly-built house of cards. I'd thought our years together had knitted together a solid foundation that couldn't be shaken, let alone smashed. But I was wrong. Everything is fragile. It only takes one terrible thing that you can't take back to destroy everything you've so carefully built. I sighed, burying my face in the pillow as I remembered that day she'd gone.

...

_We'd been standing there for several minutes, but I was still unable to accept the sight before me. She was wearing her coat, the set of fancy pink suitcases lying beside where she'd sat at the kitchen table and waited me to get home from work. Straight away I'd known what she was going to do. With a sting, I remembered how I'd bought her that set of luggage as a gift, the first expensive present I'd been able to afford to buy her. We had picked it out together, spending an afternoon in the department store while she excitedly pointed out different models and wheeled them about. I'd just sat there and laughed to myself, amused by how excited someone could get over what seemed to be such mundane, functional items. But I had lived to make her happy, and if that was what she wanted, so be it. It seemed that I'd come to make her unhappy in recent months, compounded by the blackness of my own despair. I didn't blame her for how she felt, but I'd hoped that we could help each other. Sadly, she'd never let me help her even for a second._

"_Please, don't," I heard myself say, the numbness spreading throughout my body. I was reeling from the shock that she'd finally found a way to leave me forever. In happier times, the revelation that she'd been offered an apprenticeship in Paris would have thrilled me. I wouldn't have hesitated to join her there, as I could have probably found work anywhere in the world in my chosen field. Even now, I was proud of what she'd achieved. I had tried to reason with her, and by that point, I wasn't above pleading. Even if it made me pathetic. "Can't we just talk?"_

_She rolled her eyes, a world-weary sigh escaping her. "What would be the point? It doesn't change anything. That – still happened." Her lids closed, and a single tear made a path down her cheek, smudging the coal-black makeup that outlined her eyes._

_I breathed out from between my teeth, simultaneously trying not to lose my temper or break down in tears. At that moment, it seemed either was entirely possible. _

"_Maybe you should, then. If you're going to make me feel guilty for the rest of my life. Believe me, I do that job well enough on my own." _

_That wasn't the full story, of course. I felt guilty for how I'd behaved in recent months, for spending too much time away from home drowning my sorrows in whatever dive bar I could. However, when all I encountered at home was cold indifference and apathy, it didn't exactly make me want to return home._

_She winced, and just for a brief moment, I saw a hint of the loving, laughing girl who used to drag me into dark corners of the school corridor and force me to make out with her before class. In a flash, it was gone, and the only thing left was the hollow mask of pain that clouded her beauty._

"_I'm sorry, Jazz. I can't do this any more. Don't you think I've tried?"_

"_You haven't," I said, no longer caring that my voice dripped with venom. The time had passed for murmured endearments and tears. The tears had all been shed, and we'd said all we could say that was loving. "You barely even let me get near you these days, let alone spending enough time with me to talk."_

"_Don't you see," she whispered, her fingers fiddling with a strap on her suitcase, "It's too painful. I can't. Something's died inside me, too."_

"_You don't love me any more, then?" I said, already knowing the answer. My voice was remarkably composed, given that I was screaming on the inside._

_Resentment and bitterness had already washed away our love and mutual respect for one another, burning them away like acid etches through metal. Until then, I didn't realise how much those emotions had taken hold of my own heart. The two of us had fallen so far away from each other, and I hadn't even realised it until then. I was never able to exactly recall the remainder of the conversation we had that day, and I was grateful for that. It had been full of justifications and pat statements to try and sooth each other's guilt and loathing, but that we knew would do nothing of the sort. And then there were no words left._

_I stood there silently as my entire life walked out the door._

It's not real. It isn't. No. No.

_When the lock slotted back in with a whisper, I still couldn't believe she was really gone. I wound my arms round my sides, tightening my grip on myself even when it started to ache. I've never known how long I stood there for, the minutes passing like a dying heartbeat that's so faint and slow you barely even register it. However, the next day, I found fresh bruises where my fingers had been. _

_She called me a few days later to see how I was, but I hung up the phone as soon as she asked, relishing the click as it fit back into its plastic cradle. _How do you fucking think I am?_ I thought savagely, my heart thudding almost painfully in my chest. I never told her that after the phone call, I stumbled to the bathroom and vomited until I tasted bile on my lips. Then I lit my first cigarette of three years and choked it back, the familiar, acrid taste providing some small comfort. I never told her any of those things, because after that, we never spoke again._

_No._

…

Winding the covers round myself tighter, I registered a dampness on my pillow and realised the tears had been flowing out of my eyes for several minutes. It was the first time I'd cried in months. In spite of everything that had happened, I did miss her, and I longed for those familiar days. However, with every moment I spent with Bella, I felt as if I might be finding a new kind of peace.

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**Y'all still with me? I know I really put you through the wringer sometimes, but I wanted to show more about Jasper, and that means explaining more of his past. There's something else I have yet to explain, but as I say, I have a reason and it will happen soon. I love my characters and I absolutely believe in an HEA - I'm not the kind of girl to put you all through this angst without hopeful resolution on the horizon. They're both starting to heal, even if they don't know it yet. If you liked it, a review would be wonderful and tends to make me write faster. Thanks for reading! xxx  
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	15. Like Melting Ice

**I know, I suck. I hope you like this seeing as I've taken such a long-ass time to bring it to you. I've been crazy-busy and have a new beta and so on. I'm writing a bit faster these days so hopefully updates should come quicker. Thankyou very much for all those who've reviewed - I'm sorry if I've missed replying because I always endeavour to reply to each and every one. I'm blown away by the response to this story.**

**To busymommy - I wanted to reply but I couldn't as you have your PMs disabled.  
**

***** ICF has also been nominated in the Avant Garde Fanfiction Awards for 'Best Jasper' and 'Best Non-Canon Pairing'. These are some great new awards for less well-known authors, and I was so flattered to be nominated. Voting opens on the 20th of November so if anyone would like to vote for me, please feel free :) http : / / twilightfb-awards . blogspot . com / (remove the spaces). *****

**** Thanks to tiffanyanne3 for taking on the beta work for this story, and for her careful work on this chapter. Also, to my favourite girls - you know who you are. ****

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_**Song: You Want - Porcelain And The Tramps  
**_

**Chapter 15: Like Melting Ice  
**

**BPOV**

I made my way out of the building and scrambled through my bag for a cigarette. Lighting up, I breathed a sigh of relief as I took my first deep drag in several hours. Given that I'd just finished a three-hour exam on modernist novels, a cigarette seemed mandatory. As I stood leaning against the wall and smoking, I idly watched the other students filing out. Everyone was laughing and chattering, and some looked positively green with worry. I was neither. I couldn't really say how that exam had gone, but I'd managed to focus my brain enough to study, and I'd managed to answer all the questions. It had been a couple of weeks since my embarrassing episode of crying all over Jasper, and I still hadn't been in touch with him much besides the few texts we'd exchanged. I think he understood, for he hadn't tried to call me or anything. However, that was enough to send the neurotic side of me into overdrive.

_Does he think I'm a weirdo?_  
_Did I reveal too much and now he thinks I'm one of those people that over-shares with people they don't know well?_  
_Does he think I'm a whore now because I propositioned him?_

I highly doubted that the last one was true, but that was possibly the most cringe-worthy aspect of the entire night. And it was a shame, because up until then, I'd been having so much fun. Jasper's friends were really nice and made me feel welcome. Irina was hilarious, even if she was a little too inquisitive about the nature of my relationship with Jasper. For my part, I'd just blushed a lot and tried to change the subject. Laurent and Garrett seemed nice, even if I didn't talk to them as much as the others. And Pete and Charlotte were so much fun, I could see why they were some of Jasper's best friends. Pete seemed like he'd be a great boss to have, and Charlotte was so sweet. She asked me endless things about myself, and reminded me of a slightly more alternative version of Esme. I didn't know why watching them being affectionate with one another had triggered such an extreme response. I saw couples in love all day long, particularly in the days I spent at university. Perhaps it was the alcohol I'd consumed, or the fact that I just plain missed Edward like crazy. Whatever it was, something inside me had snapped and I'd known I'd have to get out of there or risk bursting into tears in public.

I hadn't even been thinking as I'd rushed out, and I had felt bad as I didn't want to worry Jasper. I was grateful that he'd come after me, as I'd just run off to the nearest place I could find. Come to think of it, that really hadn't been the smartest thing to do. Some idiot could have attacked me, given the fact that the streets were deserted. Although, what I'd told him was the least of what had been preoccupying me. Surprisingly, he'd actually opened up and told me something about himself. I felt terrible about the fact he'd suffered so much at such a young age. Abuse from your father and then your mother descending into full-blown alcoholism was surely so much more than a little boy could bear. It must have affected him greatly, and I could see at the time that it was difficult for him to tell me. In that sense, I suppose I was flattered that he'd felt as if he could confide in me. More and more, I was beginning to feel like Jasper could understand me. That was part of the reason why I'd finally given in and told him. I didn't want him to think I was pathetic – but he didn't. He just cared.

I hadn't been held by a man in so long, and despite the gravity of the situation, it was nice. He'd stroked my hair and wiped the tears from my face, all the while letting me wear his coat while he shivered. I felt particularly guilty about that, but I really appreciated how much of a gentleman he was.

I took a final pull of my cigarette and stubbed it out in the nearby ashtray atop a trash can. It hadn't helped much. I still felt like I'd been wrung out like a wet rag, and it wasn't really to do with the gruelling exam I'd just sat. I'd been struggling to stop myself from indulging my self-harm habit, even if I hated myself more every time I let the metal touch my skin. My brain had decided to subject me to the near-constant torture of memories of Edward. And worse, they were the moments when we were happiest. Those beautiful seconds that felt like hours when I was in his arms, so wonderful at the time, now made my chest constrict painfully if I so much as thought of them. My phone buzzed and I fished it from my pocket, seeing that I had a text. I pressed the little envelope sign that was winking at me, and a message from Angela was revealed.

_Hi bb – hope your exam went well! Seeing as we both don't have any more for a couple of days, want to go for lunch at Matsu after? I'm just in the library so let me know xoxo_

Matsu was a local Japanese restaurant and a favourite haunt of students – always a good choice for its fun atmosphere and cheap, authentic food. I quickly texted back:

_Sounds great – now?_ X

She replied that she was on her way over and about five minutes later, the two of us were making our way across the road to get some lunch. We were seated swiftly by the waiter and spent a couple of minutes perusing the extensive menu. Both of us went for ramen: seafood for her and chilli beef for me.

"So how's the studying going?" I asked, taking an edamame bean from the bowl in front of us and popping it open.

She pulled a face. "Oh, you know. It seems like finals have been going on for so long that I can't even cram any more information into my brain. But at least there are only two left."

"Don't worry – I'm sure you'll do great. I remember you saying you felt like the other ones went well."

"I guess so, I just find human geography really difficult. Show me some rocks or ask me to explain the processes of a volcanic eruption and I'm fine, but all the social aspects kind of stump me."

"At least you didn't have to try and decipher what the hell James Joyce was on when he wrote _Ulysses."_

She giggled, taking a sip of her soda. "I could never do that kind of thing, Bella."

I smiled. "It's not that hard when you get the hang of it. By the way, thanks for asking me to lunch. It's so nice to do something that doesn't involve staring at four walls and studying."

"I know what you mean," she said, absentmindedly tapping her fingers on the glass table top. "I've only managed to see Ben a couple of times, but he texts me all the time and calls every day." She went a little pink as she revealed that, and I laughed lightly. Angela was so cute, bless her, and I was so happy that things seemed to be going well for the two of them. Ben was a Math major so most of his time right then was taken up by horribly complicated exams, and Angela was similarly studious. They seemed to be able to get round that, though, and it was nice to see.

"Aww, sounds like he's got it bad." She blushed further, so I hastily countered that. "But no, really, that's so sweet – you've got a good one there. When exams are over you'll be able to date to your heart's content."

She sighed dreamily. "He says the cutest things to me. It's funny, because he was so awkward and dorky when I first knew him. I never imagined he could even be romantic."

"You'd be surprised," I told her, and I was reminded of Jasper. I could tell he had a romantic side to him, even if he liked to present this rougher exterior to the world.

"Can I ask you something?" she said suddenly, and for some reason, my heartbeat stuttered.

"Um, sure. Ask away."

"Look, I really wasn't meaning to be nosy, but you know you came back late that night a couple of weeks ago? I was going past the upstairs landing on my way to bed and I saw you outside the front door talking to some guy."

"Oh," was all I said, but I could feel the pinkness starting to rise up my neck and face. _She saw me with Jasper? Agh. Oh God, did she hear what we were saying?_

"Don't worry, I wasn't listening in to your conversation – I couldn't hear anyway through the windows." I breathed a sigh of relief, but by then was thoroughly blushing, and I knew I wouldn't be able to pull the wool over Angela's eyes. "I only ask because, seriously, he was SO gorgeous – at least from what I could see in the street light glare_._ Tousled dark hair, sexy smile...wow. Please tell me you're seeing him or something?"

"Um, not exactly," I began awkwardly, taking a gulp of my water in an attempt to cool my burning cheeks. "We're friends, but it's a bit complicated."

"Oh!" she said with a knowing smile. "It's _that_ guy, isn't it?" With a sinking feeling, I remembered that I'd revealed our original tryst to Angela in a rare moment of openness. "I didn't mean to pry, or anything, but I couldn't resist asking."

It was nice that Angela and I were close enough that she felt she could ask me things like that, and really I didn't mind. I just wasn't sure how to describe my relationship with Jasper, or well, the lack of one in that sense. And I certainly couldn't explain my reluctance that was borne of still grieving for Edward.

"It's okay," I said, "and yeah, it is him. I'm not really sure what's going on. I like him, but things are difficult. He's got his own reasons for being cautious about actually being with me, but he's quite private. I don't know everything about him yet. I'm not sure I want to get involved, either."

"It sounds like you're more sure than you think," she observed. "But I guess I don't really understand the whole thing."

"Mmm," I said, popping another bean pod open just for something to do. I couldn't really answer that.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, and that time I knew what she was getting at. She hadn't mentioned a thing about my emotional breakdown in the middle of the night up until then.

"Sometimes," I admitted, not wanting to make the conversation too sombre for a busy restaurant, but aware that I shouldn't lie to Angela. She smiled sympathetically at me and then changed the subject, sensing I didn't want to discuss it. The food arrived and we fell silent for a few minutes as we ate. My chili beef ramen was good – the spicy, savoury broth somehow soothing my jangled nerves. It was only recently that I'd started to have any interest in food as something pleasurable. For so long, I'd just seen it as fuel, something to sustain me. Consequently, I'd often skipped meals, but I knew that wasn't good.

Presently, Angela and I rekindled the conversation but stuck to lighter topics, not wanting to threaten the easy, comfortable atmosphere we'd slipped into. Unfortunately, my mind kept straying to Jasper, and any attempt to push him to the back of my mind was unsuccessful. It wasn't just that I wanted to jump his bones, even if he could weaken my body with one sexy look. It was his unfailing kindness and understanding of me that was pulling me deeper than I'd realised.

_Why can't I admit that I'm falling for him?_

I didn't want to believe it, but I was growing to need him more and more. While the eventful evening of several days ago had been humiliating, I couldn't help but be grateful to him. He'd just instinctively known what I needed - not hollow words of pity, he'd just let me know that he cared. Hearing about his troubled childhood had touched me, and I'd seen a greater depth to this enigmatic man than I'd ever reached before. I knew there were more layers to him that I had yet to peel back, but I'd let him reveal them in his own time. However, despite his light-hearted, flirty nature, there was something else beneath the surface of Jasper Whitlock. What I did know, though, was that all this constant thinking and introspection wasn't really going to do anything.

After lunch, Angela went back to the library, but I couldn't face it. For some reason, I actually felt like calling Charlie. I hadn't spoken to him in a little while. Normally I only took calls from him when I had to, for fear he'd start lecturing me on when I was coming back home. In the end, though, he was my Dad, and I loved him. In his own clumsy way, he did his best, and he deserved a call from his only daughter once in a while. When I got back to the house a few minutes later, I made myself a coffee and sat down on my bed before dialling his number.

"Chief Swan," said the gruff voice at the other end of the phone.

"Hi, Dad," I said, announcing myself.

"Bella! It's great to hear from you," he replied enthusiastically, dropping the irritable tone he'd answered in. "I knew you had a lot of finals so I didn't want to bother you, but I was hoping my girl would give me a call sometime."

"There's always time for you," I said genuinely, not wanting to sound as standoffish as I had the last time we'd spoken. The truth was that I'd been too wrapped up in my own emotions, even if I hadn't intended to be selfish. It was as if a fog that had settled around me for two years was only just starting to lift.

"Uh, thanks," he said awkwardly. Charlie and I didn't tend to express a lot of emotion in our conversations; it was just how we were. I'd just wanted him to know that he did matter, and I still considered him a major part of my life even if I was far away. "How's it all been going so far?"

"Okay, I guess. I've still got three left, but the one I just had today went okay. Modernist novels."

"You know I don't know anything about that, but it sure sounds difficult."

I laughed. "Yeah. I just can't wait for them to be over. Otherwise things have been pretty slow; everyone's just studying. I went to lunch with Angela today, though."

"Did you?" He sounded excited, I suppose because I never usually mentioned seeing any friends. "It's good that you're, you know...seeing people and stuff. You never mentioned any friends, and I didn't want to say, but I was starting to worry. I know it's been hard, but I don't see how shutting yourself away is going to do any good."

"Dad, we don't need to talk about that," I said firmly. "But I'm seeing people, I'm okay. I even go out occasionally."

"Well, not too much I hope, with finals and everything," he said, but I knew he'd heeded my request shut up about it. I was glad this wasn't going to be a conversation where he'd try to mention Edward's death constantly. Convincing him that I was okay was hard enough – if that was added into the mix, my already strained façade would crumble.

"I saw Elizabeth and Edward in the town the other day, by the way," he said casually. "She told me she's going back to work full-time next week." Edward's mother had worked as a high-flying interior designer, but after his death, she'd had to take extended sick leave. I'd seen his parents a few times before I moved here, but it became too hard. Too hard to see the pain of loss etched on someone's face when they've lost their son. And I was afraid they'd blame me. Elizabeth had even gone so far as wondering what would have happened if Edward hadn't felt "pressured" by our relationship on top of everything else. However, her husband had quickly silenced her on that occasion, and she'd later apologised to me. I didn't hold it against her, but still, I felt as if I was alone with my grief, and they with theirs. It wasn't something we could share. The one person who'd understood at least somewhat was Emmett. He'd tried to take my mind off things, but even his jokes ran dry in that situation. Even he couldn't make light of his own grief, for he and Edward had been extremely close.

"That's good, I guess," I replied carefully, reacting mildly to the statement. Charlie knew of my awkwardness around Edward's parents since it had happened, but he didn't like to bring it up.

"I've got some news, as well. Emmett's engaged."

"What?" I spluttered, unable to believe what I was hearing. Happy-go-lucky Emmett, who had probably never moved past the age of five in the maturity stakes, was _engaged?_ I just couldn't see it happening, and immediately wondered who the hell the girl was who'd gotten him to settle down. I heard Charlie laughing at the other end of the line and wished I hadn't reacted so suddenly.

"That was kind of my reaction, too. But he seems really happy – I think it's actually a serious decision." I wasn't sure if I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt on that.

"So who is it?" I asked, still reeling from the shock of the announcement. "Anyone I know? I didn't even know he had a girlfriend, much less a fiancée."

"Rosalie Hale." He paused for my reaction, but I had none. My jaw didn't drop; this was more of a stomach-dropping moment. I felt as if a hole in the ground would open up and I'd fall right down due to the level of surprise I was experiencing right then.

_Rosalie Hale?_ Ever since I'd arrived at the school, I'd known Rosalie to be the exact type of person I never liked to mix with. She was blonde, stunningly beautiful and had been the Homecoming Queen twice at Forks High. Naturally, that made her arrogant, and she surrounded herself with a group of sycophantic followers. Her reputation was legendary, and those who foolishly tried to cross her were decimated. Thankfully I'd managed to escape her claws as I was quiet, studious and generally stayed under the radar. Not that I hadn't seen the jealousy in her eyes when Edward had chosen me as his girlfriend, but as Emmett had privately told me, she wasn't his type at all. However, I still had a smidgen of respect for her, because she actually possessed a sharp intelligence beneath all that shallow beauty. If Emmett liked her, he must have seen something beyond her looks. I knew that much. I realised I shouldn't have judged too quickly.

"Well, if he's happy, then that's great," I said diplomatically, suppressing the sudden urge to burst into fits of laughter. It was just so ridiculous - Emmett and the bitchy Homecoming Queen. I knew that he'd hung around with that crowd at school, but it was still quite a surprise. Although, a lot of his life since he graduated high school a while back had surprised me. The fact that he'd actually decided to go to college had amazed me - although, he'd managed to get in on a football scholarship and play for the prestigious Aztecs team in San Diego, California. He'd flourished in college life so far, and was planning to go professional one day. I thought with a twinge how proud Edward would have been of his older brother.

"They've been seeing each other for a few months now. I guess I'd just forgotten to mention it to you." _Or you were afraid to mention it to me, more like._

"It's fine," I said, smiling to myself. "He's always been impulsive, but he manages to land on his feet all the same. I'm happy for them."

"Honey, _you_ really sound happier, you know," he said quickly, and I could tell that he was nervous about saying that to me. Normally if he tried to second-guess my feelings we'd get into an argument or I'd shut down.

"I do?" The words were virtually unknown to me, and for him to say that to me made me uncomfortable.

"Yeah." He paused.

I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I just switched the subject and asked him what was going on in Forks. I heard the usual stuff about Jacob and fishing dates with Billy, and how apparently some kids on the reservation were causing trouble. I was pleased to hear that life in Forks went on as normal, though. That wasn't as painful to accept as it had been at one time. Even the very next day after it had happened, I'd seen people out the window coming and going, laughing, talking as if there was something to look forward to. Everything had changed for me, and yet that sleepy little town barely seemed to know it. Of course, Edward's death soon sent shockwaves throughout Forks and even sparked a scaremongering story in the Peninsula Daily News about how teen suicide was becoming endemic in the area (it really wasn't). However, eventually people stopped talking about it and it became old news, even if it was anything but for me. I knew I'd made the right decision in getting out of there. It was excruciating to have to see people cast their eyes down whenever they saw me in the street, unsure of what to say. Or worse, there were the ones that would come and hug me and exclaim over how terrible it must be, or the ones who'd ghoulishly try and pry details out of me under the guise of concern for my well-being.

After I hung up, I made myself a meagre dinner of a cup of tea and a slice of toast, then organised my files and replied to some emails. With a start, I noticed there was one from my Mom. It was the first contact I'd received from her in months, apart from a cheesy postcard with a scene of a mariachi band that said _wish you were here._

_Hi baby,_

_How are things over in London? Are you British yet? I mean, you've been there a long time. Please tell me you're drinking endless cups of tea and saying "cheers'" I'm sorry I haven't been in touch for a while, but Phil and I went to Cancún for a month's vacation in April. Hope you got the postcard. It was fabulous! You have to come on our next vacation if you can, or even to stay with us at the house in Florida - we haven't seen you in so long. If you want to come and stay, we'll pay for your flight. Just let us know when._

_Other than that, I've been super-busy with the class I'm teaching. It's hard work but the kids are doing great - they're really learning how to express themselves. Even if they're a little tough to handle, I feel like I'm starting to get through to them. Anyway, I hope you're doing okay and that you're not studying too hard. Do you have finals yet? Send me all your news!_

_Your loving Mom_  
_xxx_

I couldn't suppress a fond smile at Renee's sunny, optimistic words. Admittedly, I had been sceptical when she'd finished her teacher's training last year and announced she was going to teach drama and theatre to underprivileged kids. She'd started off a few months ago in a rough, inner-city school, but despite difficulties, the kids had really taken to her and she was enjoying it. I was amazed that she'd finally clicked with something, and I hoped she'd continue with what sounded like a really worthwhile job.

She seemed so happy. I certainly didn't regret the decision I'd made to move in with Charlie when I was 15 and she married Phil. In those days, he'd had to move around so much that I wanted to feel like she could do that with him. His baseball career had never progressed beyond the minor leagues, but he was also coaching part-time and just enjoying life with her in Florida.

They'd been married for around six years, probably longer than Renee had stuck at anything, so I was pretty sure that he was a keeper. My Mom and I normally emailed as phone calls could be awkward - at least, they were from my side. I considered her generous request of paying for me to visit. I probably should do, as I hadn't seen her in years, but I was unsure. I loathed the hot, muggy air in Jacksonville, but I guessed I could stand it to go and see her. That wasn't what worried me. In truth, I didn't know what being on American soil would do to me. I'd crossed an ocean to a different continent to get away from the terrible memories of his death. They'd followed me, of course, but I feared that if I returned, it would only hit me all over again and I'd fall into an even deeper pool of despair I would never break the surface of. Plus, it would hurt Charlie that I'd been in the country and hadn't gone up to Forks. Sure, it was the opposite side of the country, and he'd say it was great for me to see my Mom, but he'd still be upset.

I decided to give it more thought at a later date, as I wasn't sure how I felt about doing it right now. I typed out a quick, falsely cheerful reply to Renee, telling her how school was doing and that I'd been hanging out with Angela. I said I'd have to check my vacation dates before I gave her an answer on the visit, hoping that'd pacify her for the time being.

After that, I had a little more studying to do, but it was cold out, so I made a cup of tea and got into bed to read through my notes. My Victorian literature unit wasn't too difficult, and I glanced over the pages and pages of my hastily scrawled handwriting with relative ease. I could feel my eyelids beginning to droop, and thought that I might just close my eyes for one second. One second wouldn't hurt, surely...

_Brrrrring. Brrrring._

_Ugh. What? _ I stirred, realising that I'd fallen asleep with my head on my notes. I had no idea how long, but it was probably quite late by that point. I tried to sit up to ascertain the source of the shrill noise that was continuing, but my head was fuzzy, my mouth was dry, and it felt as if my eyelids were glued together. With great difficulty, I lifted my head up, which was probably a mistake as an overwhelming dizziness suddenly came over me. I noticed that the noise had stopped, and decided I couldn't be bothered to find what it had been. Hauling myself out of bed with a mind to make a coffee and try and study a little more tonight, I caught sight of myself in the mirror as I went past, and immediately wished I hadn't.

_God, I look like shit._

My ponytail was skew-wiff, many stray strands having escaped from it, and there was an angry red line down the middle of my cheek. A quick glance at my rumpled comforter confirmed that I must have fallen asleep on top of my ringbinder, leaning my face on its spine. My neck felt like I had whiplash from the terribly uncomfortable way I'd slept, and I sighed at how much of an idiot I could be sometimes. With a start, I heard the shrill noise again, and my brain finally kicked into gear and realised that my phone was receiving a call. I saw it flashing and buzzing at the foot of my bed and dived for it, clicking the answer button probably just in time.

"Hello," I said croakily, thinking how much I wanted a drink of water right then.

"It's Jasper," said a voice in that familiar, honey-smooth Southern accent. "Did I interrupt you in the middle of something?"

I cleared my throat, feeling entirely ridiculous due to the fact my heart had started pounding like a bass drum the second I'd heard him speak.  
"Oh, no! Not at all," I replied, relieved that my voice sounded virtually back to normal. "I actually fell asleep, and this woke me up," I admitted sheepishly.

"Sorry for waking you," he said in regretful tones. "I know you don't always sleep well."

"It's okay. I should be studying, so you did me a favour by waking me. I was just reading my notes, and I must have fallen asleep without realising it."

He laughed his deep, throaty, irresistibly sexy laugh down the phone. I'd been thinking about him so much it was pathetic, but the tenderness he'd shown me was more than just because I was upset. I knew it had to mean something, but was I ready to let it mean everything to me?

"Those must have been some hella interesting notes," he said when his laughter finally died away.

"Are you making fun of me?" I said a little too grouchily, but then, the man had just woken me from a deep slumber.

"Just a little," he laughed. "Sounds like you're working yourself a bit too hard though," he added more seriously. "Remember to breathe."

"I'm not that much of a slave to my work, really," I protested, even though I knew he was right to some extent. I had spent the majority of my waking moments studying since before finals had even started. It wasn't that I was that studious - I'd always worked hard, but I was never the best in the class. The truth was, study was the only way I could forget. My rare moments of peace came when I totally immersed myself in the literature and theories I loved, spending hours understanding a new idea or reading a new novel. Despite that, I still had to frantically blink back tears when I remembered how proud Edward would have been of me, and how much he would have supported me in doing what I loved.

"It's a good way to distract yourself from other stuff," I added, aware that my voice was shaky. "But I have taken breaks, honestly. I went for lunch with a girlfriend earlier today."

"Sure," he said calmly, but I detected an obvious note of concern in his voice. I remembered weeping in his arms, his jacket atop me and his hands in my hair. I remained acutely embarrassed with regard to that night, but at the same time I knew it had begun to change everything. I ached to feel those arms around me again and breathe in his comforting, masculine scent, because nothing took away my pain like they had. In his arms, I'd felt whole for the first time in forever, and I was already addicted to the memory of that feeling I'd forgotten for so long. I was afraid to need someone, but I needed _him_. "I'm sorry I haven't called you in a while, by the way. I wasn't avoiding speaking to you or anything, I just thought you might want some time."

"That was really thoughtful of you. I guess you probably still think I'm a bit of a weirdo, but..."

"No," he interrupted earnestly. "You know I don't think that at all. I've been really worried about you."

"Don't be," I said, my voice growing fainter. "Let's just forget about it."

"If that's what you want," he replied, not exactly sounding convinced, but I muttered my agreement and he seemed to accept that. "I didn't mean to upset you, Bella," he added. "Really. The last thing I want to do is hurt you." Those words pricked at me, and I wanted to believe in their sincerity, but at the same time, I was cautious. Just one gaze from those soulful blue eyes could pry even the darkest aspects of my past from me. It was far easier than it should be to tell him things, and knowing that he'd suffered too, as terrible as that was, helped me not feel so alone in my pain.

"It's okay," I said, brushing away the single tear that had spilled from my eye with my knuckle. "I don't want to hurt you either." I instantly wished I hadn't said that. What on earth did I even mean by it? I heard him pause, exhaling.

"Not much can hurt me these days, trust me on that," he said cryptically, before changing the subject. "So, now to why I was calling. I don't want to keep you from your work too much longer, but essentially, I was wondering if you'd like to come to a football game with me?"

"Is that like soccer?" I asked, feeling a bit foolish when he laughed. _Ignorant American, party of one. _It wasn't like I didn't know what it was or anything, it was always on in bars and supporters of the various London football clubs would be in the streets. I'd just wondered, was all.

"That's it. I'm an Arsenal FC supporter, and they're playing Wigan Athletic this weekend – Saturday night. I've got two tickets, and if you'd like to go, I would love to take you. Interested?"

"I don't really know anything about either of the teams, but it sounds like it might be fun."

"I'll even throw in some beer and a really disgusting hot dog."

I giggled. "Well, when you put it like that – what girl wouldn't say yes?"

"Exactly, darlin'" he said airily, laughing again as he threw in that endearment. I knew that he only said it to tease me, but it still sounded ridiculously hot when said in his accent. I almost whimpered.

"Cocky bastard," I shot back, covering up my pathetic swooning-girl routine that was going on inside my head. "So what time are we meeting?"

"About seven? I'll meet you outside Arsenal tube station - it's on the Piccadilly line."

"Sounds good to me." I nodded.

"Wrap up warm," he cautioned. "I heard there's going to be a cold snap, even though the weather's been getting warm."

"It's basically summer now. This country can't make its damn mind up," I lamented, shaking my head and immediately feeling foolish because it wasn't as if he could see it. We talked for another minute or two, and after we hung up, I found that I was grinning like a Halloween pumpkin. I couldn't stop. I slumped onto my mattress, drawing my knees up to my chest and hugging them close to me. I was excited about going on what was basically a date with a guy. And not just any guy - _Jasper. _That was huge. I felt as if I should be guilty for or afraid of feeling this good, but I wasn't. I savoured the moment, letting it wash away my loneliness and grief, if only briefly.

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**Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. I love each and every one of my readers and it keeps me writing. Thanks for reading xx**


	16. Up In Smoke

**I hope you'll all like this one. It's been a long time coming, that's for sure. As ever, I'm stunned by and grateful for the support from all my wonderful readers. Thankyou for all the reviews and I always endeavour to reply.**

**Also - I don't know if anyone's interested but I've posted a new short story - _From Yesterday, _another Jasper fic, set around the time of World War One. It's only 8 chapters long and already complete so I update often. Have a read, especially if you like historical fics.  
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**** Thanks to SydneyTwiMum for being the speediest pre-reader ever, and to tiffanyanne3 for the thorough beta job. Also to mouse555 for ribbing me about being an Arsenal fan - haha, love ya really, bb! **  
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_**Song: Fresh Feeling - Eels  
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**Chapter 16: Up In Smoke  
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**JPOV**

We made our way into the Emirates stadium slowly, ascending the stairs to reach the upper tier. It was a cold evening, but despite that, the excited murmurs of many fans could already be heard. Bella was immediately open-mouthed in wonder, and I watched her, amused. There was nothing quite like the atmosphere of your first football match: the adrenaline of the game, the cheering of the crowd you couldn't help but be swept up in, even the stale, flat beer. I had no idea whether she'd enjoy it, but it was a neutral, public activity where there was no danger of me getting too captivated by her. It had been a near miss the other night, and I still hadn't forgiven myself for that. For Christ's sake, I'd almost kissed her barely minutes after she'd revealed to me that her boyfriend committed suicide. What kind of person did that make me?

The smile slipped from my face, and I was glad of the fact that Bella was following behind and couldn't see my expression. Everything she'd told me had been playing on my mind for the past few days. It wasn't like I'd wanted to kiss her purely for selfish reasons - she was crying, and for some reason, that was my instinctive reaction. I'd managed not to give into that particular impulse and had settled for holding her while she soaked my jacket with tears. I had a feeling she was embarrassed about that, but I didn't want her to be. Of all people, I knew exactly how she was feeling. All the little nuances of her behaviour were starting to make sense now, and consequently, I felt even guiltier. I couldn't have known that she was hiding something like that, but I'd near-constantly analysed my behaviour on various occasions ever since. I should have been more sensitive, more perceptive...something. Knowing that she was dealing with something that big damn near broke my heart, and I wanted to help her any way I could. Even if it was just by inviting her to join me at a game.

"It's bigger than I thought it would be," she whispered, dumbfounded, and I turned to her, forcing a smile. There was no need to dwell on it and spoil things. I'd invited Bella out, and I wanted to try my best to make sure she had a good time.

"Not to mention prohibitively expensive to build." I laughed smoothly, hoping that she wouldn't notice the unease I was hiding beneath. "The club had to put a ban on transfers for years to be able to afford this. Worth it though, I think - it seats sixty thousand at full capacity. I've been to several others around, but there's no stadium that can touch it besides Old Trafford up in Manchester." Keeping the conversation light was probably the best thing at that moment, and was the best chance I had of distracting myself.

"Oh, that's where Manchester United play, right?" she said, her brow furrowing.

"Yeah," I confirmed, a little incredulous that she was even aware of Man U's existence, given that she'd told me she knew nothing about what she called "soccer". Although, I supposed they were well-known worldwide, and it wasn't that strange that she'd heard of the team.

"Don't look so shocked!" She giggled, and I felt my mood lift ever so slightly. I was reminded of the fact that I'd seen her laugh more often in recent weeks than I ever thought she would. I hadn't seen her true smile at first, but when she really smiled, her face was warm, radiant and utterly irresistible. She was so beautiful when she laughed, and she had no idea. My heartbeat skittered, and I concentrated on drinking my beer to avoid getting too distracted. "I know things. I don't exactly know how everything works, but I've heard of Wayne Rooney and, um, Eric Cantona?"

I choked on my sip of beer, spluttering a little. "Eric Cantona? You do know he retired in 1997, right?" She flushed, her chin disappearing into her scarf, and I suddenly felt bad for embarrassing her. All the same, I couldn't resist teasing her - I was having far too much fun. Plus, I found it cute that she was dredging up any piece of football knowledge she could think of. If she was trying to impress me, she had no need to. Her very presence made an impression on me nothing could surpass.

"Well how was I supposed to know that? I don't really know anything about soccer. I'm an American!" She was indignant, her tone petulant as she bit down on her lip irritably.

"And what am I, French?"

Bella gulped back some of her own beer, looking daggers at me, and I continued to laugh.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," I finally told her, pretending to hang my head in shame. A stray piece of hair had fallen out of her cap, and I absentmindedly reached out to tuck it behind her ear. She jumped a little at the touch, and I immediately shoved the hand in my pocket, aware that I'd forgotten myself. "I shouldn't have made fun of a football neophyte. If you want, I can explain the game to you. It's not complicated."

"If you promise not to make fun of me," she said seriously, blinking up at me beneath coal-black lashes. Her face was blank, her jaw set, and I worried I'd gone too far, but then a smile broke through and I realised that she was teasing me. Touché. God, she was stunning, even bundled up in her scarf, gloves and that silly baseball cap that was far too big for her. Realising I was staring again, I blinked, ripping my gaze from her face to look across the other side of the stadium. Seats were beginning to fill up quickly as legions of fans filed into the rows. I pointed down at the pitch and began to explain the basics. Bella was an enthusiastic student and seemed to figure it out quite quickly, asking me lots of excited questions along the way. The offside rule might take a little more time, but I could easily explain that when the game was in full swing.

Soon, it was time for kick-off and the atmosphere of a full stadium was electric. Bella watched with interest as the game got underway, each team passing and trying to wrestle possession of the ball from the other. She leaned over to ask me what was going on several times, and I was happy to explain. When one Arsenal player long-balled across the pitch and the ball seemed sure to go in, thousands of supporters held their breaths, including us. When the ball went wide at the last second, Bella shook her head and turned to me.

"How did he miss that?" she shouted over the tumult of the crowd. "What a shocker." I laughed, amused to see how much she was getting into it, and tugged at the edge of her cap affectionately. The minutes passed, the play become more frenzied every second as each team tried to break through the other's defences.

My heart thumped in my chest, and I felt the blood rushing through my veins, beat by beat as I watched the player careering down the pitch towards the goal. As his foot connected with the ball and it hit the back of the net, we all paused with bated breath, and then saw the scoreboard change.

_YES!_

All of a sudden, the stadium erupted with a roar, the spectators celebrating as the players jumped on each other in an enormous group hug. I leapt to my feet with everyone else, cheering, and high-fived the guy standing on the other side of me. Looking round, I saw Bella waving her mittened hands in the air excitedly, obviously swept up in the atmosphere of the first goal of the match being scored. She looked so happy and carefree, perhaps more so than I'd ever seen her. And in that moment, all reason left me.

Before my brain had even caught up with my actions, I'd crushed my lips to her soft, inviting mouth. She gasped in surprise, and I pulled back slightly, suddenly acutely aware of what I was doing, and how insane it was. I couldn't believe it when her lips tentatively pressed to mine again, and I eagerly responded, my mouth molding to hers as I pulled her closer to me. The pleasure centres in my brain went crazy as I gave into every feeling I'd been trying to resist for the past few weeks. After a moment or two she sighed against my mouth, and we broke apart, our noses still touching even though the kiss had ended. The cheers started to die down and I heard several wolf-whistles from around us. Fucking hell, for once in my life, I was actually embarrassed. What in the world had possessed me to throw away all the careful boundaries we'd set for our relationship in one stupid second?

"Give her one, mate!" somebody yelled from behind us, and the spell was immediately broken. "Or I will!" someone else added, and there was laughter and more cheering. We jumped apart like repelling magnets, aware that we'd made somewhat of a spectacle of ourselves. Bella flushed scarlet and hid in her scarf, pulling it higher up her face. Feeling kind of protective of her all of a sudden, I loosely put my arm round her. She shrugged it off, but not instantly, which gave me some hope that we could recover from my blunder. I had a feeling we'd become the entertainment, notwithstanding the game, which was now back in play. I grinned sheepishly at the people in the row in front, afraid to look back at her for fear she'd kick me in the balls or something. Actually, that was definitely a good reason to look around, in case she was trying to aim a kick when I wasn't looking.

"I guess it's an exciting game, isn't it?" she remarked thoughtfully, but her gaze was shrewd as she looked upon me. I wasn't one for blushing, but I could feel the heat rising up my neck and face as she regarded me with a cool expression.

"I'm sorry," I muttered at a volume only she could hear. "I don't know what came over me. Can't we just forget it ever happened?" Her eyes swivelled back towards mine, and she almost looked amused.

"Do we have to talk about it now?" she replied equally quietly. "There's a game on." She gestured towards the pitch where the referee was holding up a yellow card to one of the Wigan players. Shit. I'd been so caught up in my own embarrassment I was missing the game. Miraculously, we managed to make it through the remainder of the ninety minutes, plus a little injury time without it being too awkward. However, I did keep catching her stealing glances at me, then she'd look back and lock her gaze with mine. When I heard the final whistle blow, signifying that Arsenal had won the match with the lone goal scored, I barely even cared. That was one of the ways I knew this was too serious to just pass off - I didn't even give a shit that my team had just won.

I hadn't been thinking when I'd kissed her, but even though I'd stopped, she'd responded to me. It felt like Bella and I were just slipping naturally into a relationship that blurred the boundaries between friendship and romance, and I knew we'd have to confront that sooner or later. Sooner, if I had my way. I wanted more, despite the fact our pasts still shadowed us. I needed her so much more than I'd care to admit, and more than that, I wanted her. It was so much more than an overwhelming need to possess her body, though that often played on my thoughts. I wanted to be so good for her, as good as she was for me, but I wasn't sure that I could be. But every second I was with her, she made me want to try. I knew I hadn't imagined the spark that kiss had ignited between us.

The home stands echoed with jubilance and victory, the cheering echoing off every surface, but I was barely listening. It certainly seemed like she'd enjoyed herself; she'd seamlessly managed to involve herself in it.

"That was fun!" she said, flashing her teeth at me in an easy grin. "I think I'm going to like football." That oh-so British expression rolled off her tongue in a teasing fashion, and she laughed. I was unnerved - how was it that she was so cool with this, while my stomach was doing somersaults? The extent to which she affected me was becoming all the more apparent, yet I wasn't afraid of it like I should have been. Before I could completely indulge the neurotic ramblings of my mind, Bella spoke again. "I'm not angry at you for doing that, you know." Her tone was casual, conversational almost, but there was the barest trace of nervousness behind her words.

"You're not?" I was really starting to sound like a total dumbass, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that I should let her do the talking. After all, I was the one who'd so flagrantly disregarded the self-imposed limitations of our relationship and kissed her. The least I could do was let her tear me a new one for doing it, but it seemed like she wasn't even going to do that. I was becoming more dumbfounded as the seconds went on, and it hadn't escaped her notice. She raised an eyebrow, her lips forming a smirk. I wasn't easy to embarrass, but she'd managed to wrong-foot me constantly during the evening. She was willing to play me at my own game, completely apart from the sport we'd spent the evening watching. In that moment, I think I gained even more respect for Bella Swan, if that was possible. And she became even more attractive, which was borderline painful for me. If she'd been merely beautiful before, by God, she was near fucking heavenly in my eyes after that.

"I kissed back," she said simply, the self-composed smile slipping from her face.

"Why didn't you stop me?"

"Maybe I wanted you to kiss me." By that point, her voice had lowered to the softest whisper, and I almost doubted that I'd heard her right.

"It was stupid and impulsive, not to mention insensitive to your feelings." The words jarred as they fell from my lips, awkward and stilted in a way they certainly hadn't been in my head. "I haven't forgotten what you told me. Given the situation, I was entirely out of order."

Her features hardened just a little, and I felt a wave of guilt at bringing up what was such a painful subject with her. But I wanted her to understand that I hadn't disregarded that. I didn't want to just be her distraction, but nor did I want to replace him in her eyes. I knew I could never do that, but still, a part of me hoped that I'd managed to get past some of those walls she'd spent so long building up around herself. Even if I didn't know whether she'd ever manage to break through mine.

"You were. It doesn't mean that I didn't want you to do it, though."

I swear my heart stopped for a second. It was difficult to process what she'd just told me, but I knew she had to be telling the truth. Contentment swelled in me, seeping into every crack in my heart and filling it with warmth and joy. There were no words needed just then, and we fell silent.

As we filed out of the stadium along with the scores of satisfied fans, I kept stealing glances at Bella, and every time I did, I caught her looking at me too. She smiled shyly and turned her head away each time, but then she would always turn back.

I made to head in the direction of Arsenal tube station, but she tugged on my arm, shaking her head.

"Let's just walk for a little while. It's a beautiful night." She was right, it truly was. The spell of unusually cold weather for May seemed to be lifting. I was already feeling uncomfortably hot in my warm jacket and hoodie, and she must have felt the same because she pulled off her gloves and hat. She smoothed her hair down, laughing as she regarded the lurid hat before putting it in her bag.

"It looked cute on you," I offered, and she beamed at me.

"You're so only saying that," she muttered, unbuttoning her coat to cool down further. "But thank you."

_Silly girl_. Why on Earth wouldn't she believe she was as beautiful as she was? I could hardly look at her without wanting to hold her, kiss her, touch her, taste her. But I wanted so much more than that. I wanted her to fall asleep with me every night and wake up with me every morning. I wanted to make love to her on my big, comfortable bed, slow and sweet, not rough and pressed up against a wall. Although I'd be lying if I said the thought of the latter didn't make my dick twitch. I was still reeling from her revelation that she'd wanted me to kiss her. I had no idea where that would take us, but I had a few half-formed thoughts of what might happen as a result. Admittedly a fair few of those thoughts were of sweat-slicked skin, hands twisted in sheets and her moans, but that wasn't the whole story.

I was starting to feel really uncomfortably hot. I unzipped my coat, relishing the mild, fragrant air and its refreshing breeze that stole over my skin. We were passing someone's front garden, and hyacinths were clustered by the wall, perfuming the air with a delicate scent. It was pleasant, but it didn't even compare to the scent of Bella's skin that had hit me when I'd kissed her at the game. She smelled of vanilla and soap and something unknown that I couldn't get enough of.

"Did you enjoy it?" I asked, smiling at her as we walked.

"Yeah, it was great!" she said excitedly, nodding with enthusiasm. "Thanks for inviting me. I think I even understood it pretty well."

"After a while, at least," I teased, and she smacked me playfully on the arm.

"You're such a crappy American, you know. You even call it football."

I held my hands up in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged. I guess I've just been here too long - or maybe not long enough. There's that famous saying - 'When a man is tired of London he is tired of life.'"

She nodded. "Dr Samuel Johnson. He was a wise man. I still haven't done as many things in the city as I'd like to. I did all the touristy stuff when I first got here, of course, but other than that...I guess I haven't done as much as I could have." She looked a little embarrassed as she admitted that. "I've spent too much time moping in my room."

"I know," I told her, my words weighed down with implications. I inched my hand towards hers and plucked up the courage to slip it into hers. Her gaze darted back to me in surprise, but she didn't let go. Her warm, soft little hand wrapped round my own so that we were holding hands as we walked. It was such a simple gesture, but we both knew it meant something.

"Do you think you'd ever go back to the States?" she asked as if nothing had happened. I wound my fingers into hers and squeezed her hand as I considered the question.

"I'm not sure," I answered truthfully. "Maybe one day. But I love it here too much. London's an amazing city. You can just escape into it. What I like about it most, though, is all the little things that you start to notice if you just take a second look. And all the people that you see."

"Nobody ever sees me," she said sadly. "But you did. I normally scare guys off with that bullshit tough attitude, but I didn't phase you at all. You were interested in _me_, and not just for the sake of getting in my pants. Although I guess at the time I expected nothing more than that." She paused, laughing nervously. "Of course, I don't believe that wasn't a large part of it. You did get me drunk, after all."

"You would have gone home with me anyway," I said without thinking it through, and her eyebrows shot up.

"Is that so?" she murmured in a soft tone that, for some reason, I found incredibly hot. I was practically at half-mast already, and walking might become a tad uncomfortable. I breathed deeply, trying to get a grip on myself so she wouldn't realise and think I was a weird pervert.

"I'll admit that I have a habit of flirting with my female customers - er, not so much these days," I hastily explained while she regarded me with an amused expression. "Despite that, I don't normally sit and talk for that long, but I think that night I just felt like talking to someone. I was just working, kind of bored, and then you walked in and you were so beautiful I could hardly believe my luck. And intelligent, too."

"Covering up your arrogance with compliments?" She laughed, her tongue darting out from between her lips in a teasing fashion.

"Sometimes I am. But with you, I mean every word I say." My voice was low and serious, but I hoped that she caught the utter sincerity in it. Unnoticed by either of us, we'd stopped in front of of Canonbury Square. It was a bit dark to go inside, of course, but we could glimpse the lines of trees that bordered it slowly swaying in the evening breeze.

"That looks beautiful," she remarked thoughtfully. "I'll have to go there in the day sometime. I didn't even know it was there."

I'd spent so much of my time wandering through London's endless tucked-away parks and squares. There were so many undiscovered spots of greenery even in such a massive urban environment. Places where anyone could snatch a moment of peace, which was probably the reason I'd haunted them so often. Absentmindedly, I took her hand in mine, trailing my fingers across her palm, and I felt her shiver. The air was fragrant, and the gentle breeze and the quiet were soothing after the noise and excitement of the game. She turned towards me, clasping my hand, and I heard her breathing hitch. Before I even realised it, my feet had taken a step forward, placing my body just inches from hers.

"Jasper?" she said quietly, her dark eyes boring into mine.

"What is it?" I asked, echoing her own soft tones. For some reason, I couldn't resist stretching my hand out to touch the silky tendrils of hair that had escaped from her ponytail.

"We're...friends, aren't we?" she said tremulously, her breathing rapid and shallow. I could tell that she was as tired of our constant resistance to and denial of our feelings for one another as I was. Bella wanted this, and so did I. I'd spent too long being afraid of what it would mean, feeling as if I didn't deserve her. That had all been swept away with that impromptu stolen kiss, as inappropriate as it had been at the time. She was warmth and kindness and everything I didn't even know I'd been missing. I knew how much she was hurting, though, and I didn't want her to feel guilty for being pulled in two directions. At the same time, I could no longer stop myself from bowing to the urge to kiss her.

"Very good friends," I murmured, slipping one hand into her hair as I brought my lips to hers.

And so it was that outside the park gates, beneath a cloudy night sky, Bella let me kiss her. It was even better than before, because I knew she wanted this too. Her hands tightly wound into my hair as my tongue sought the delicious heat of her mouth. She gasped into the kiss, her taste and scent overwhelming me as we gave in to our need at last. She bit the flesh of my lower lip and I groaned, my mouth responding with increased pressure on hers. I slipped my hands under her open coat, pulling her closer as my arms wound round her back and she shivered. The kiss became harder and deeper, the kind where you simply can't get enough of the other person and would happily absorb your soul into theirs. She tugged at the collar of my jacket, holding me to her as I let my hands wander over her delectable curves that were regrettably covered by a sweater right then.

I groaned when she dropped her hands and slipped them beneath my t-shirt and jacket, gently tracing the waistband of my pants. Her mouth dipped to my neck, pressing a hot, wet kiss to the sensitive skin, and I shuddered. She was being far too damn sexy, teasing me like that. I was rapidly becoming painfully hard, and not for the first time, wondered why I tended to wear such tight jeans. I might have to impose a rule on myself not to wear tight pants around Bella. Come to think of it, that wasn't really a bad idea at all.

"Do friends do this?" she questioned, biting down on her lip while still breathing heavily. I kissed the corner of her lip before drawing back, my heart's erratic rhythm pounding in my ears. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her back to my place, and I had a feeling she might agree. But I didn't want it to be that way - for once, I wanted to do this right. I wanted to treat her well, and respect her.

"Oh God, stop," I sighed, pulling back. "If we keep on with this my mind's going to run away with fantasies of fucking you in the park or something. Not that I would, you know - I think a police helicopter patrols overhead. And besides, a bed is a lot nicer." I was beginning to feel like a total idiot. Even after spending a fair amount of time with her, I still tended to ramble nervously around Bella. It was a bit embarrassing as I normally prided myself on being smooth as hell. Well, perhaps I was just a cocky bastard who needed to be taken down a peg. She was definitely good for me in that sense.

"I feel like I'm kissing George Michael or something," she giggled in response to my would-be-park-fucking monologue. I was amazed she'd even understood all that crap.

"Well, we're not on Hampstead Heath. And I think George would rather kiss me," I teased. "Though you are incomparably beautiful."

"Jasper Whitlock, are you trying to get lucky?" she said with a laugh, a twinkle in her eye.

"What I was going to say," I continued, unabashed, "was that, while that idea might be attractive if I was only thinking with my, er...you know, you're worth more than that. If this is going to happen, you may as well let me take you out to dinner first." Her eyebrows arched, and I hastily countered with, "Not that I expect anything to happen or anything, I'm not making presumptions." I was aware that I was starting to garble, my words coming out in a rush, but then her face creased into a smile.

"Stop talking," she said, stroking my fingers over her cheek. "And yes, I would love to go to dinner with you, but I've still got finals. I'll be done at the end of next week, though."

"A week on Saturday then, shall we say?" I asked, and she nodded. "Any preference on type of food?"

"That sounds perfect," she smiled. "And no, I like all kinds of cuisines. Maybe something unusual? Gives me time to recover from my last final. It's Advanced Research Skills, and it may finish me off."

I made a face. "Sounds dreadful." It was so long since I'd dabbled in the world of academia, and yet I could still remember it so vividly. "Do you want to walk again?"

"Sure," she nodded, virtually glowing with a happiness that stole its way inside me, burning away every doubt. I loved that I was making her feel that way, and I never wanted to make her feel otherwise. "I think we probably should - loitering outside a park late at night looks a bit shifty."

"Come on, then," I said gently, but couldn't resist cupping her chin in my hand and pulling her in for one last kiss.

"Just so you know, I was dying to as well," she said shyly, casting her eyes on the pavement. " You're not the only one struggling with their resolve." Hearing her say that turned me on even further, which wasn't exactly helping. It was nice to hear that she wanted me just as much as I wanted her, though.

"I can't even explain how much I love hearing you say that," I murmured, and she leaned over to kiss my cheek as we walked. We found a bus stop a couple of minutes later and boarded a Camden-bound bus. It was busy with drunken revellers so ended up standing. Bella leaned on me sleepily, and I wrapped my arm round her, holding her to me. A couple of other passengers smiled at us, and I realised we looked just like any other couple. That revelation both thrilled me and terrified me, but I was able to dispel my fears by the merest moment spent with her. She'd already worked her way beneath the surface, far deeper than I'd let any of those other girls who'd meant no more to me than a brief escape. Everything was so new and raw and precarious that I had no idea what would happen. But I did know that we could never go back.

I was afraid of letting her in deeper than I'd let anyone in so long, afraid she'd see the darkness within me. However, with her, I felt as if I were real again: solid flesh and bone instead of wispy dust and air. When we left the bus and I walked with her the short distance back to her place, I didn't kiss her. I figured I'd already pushed my luck enough tonight, and the mere memory of her lips on mine was enough for me right then. I think I'd established pretty clearly that it was a date, but still, I hoped that she understood that. And more than that, I hoped that she shared even a hint of the feelings I had for her. I hoped that so desperately as I turned to walk away, whispering "good night" to her as she waved lightly to me. One thing was for certain, though. I was definitely going to have to take an ice-cold shower when I got in.

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**Shameless self pimp: The Avant Garde Fanfiction Awards are still open for voting until December 4th and ICF is nominated for Best Non Canon Pairing and Best Jasper - any votes are greatly appreciated - here's the link. ****http : / / twilightfb-awards . blogspot . com / (remove the spaces)**

**So, are you happy they're finally getting together? If you don't like football I apologise for the subject matter of this chapter, but I thought it'd be a fun setting and I've based it on my own experience of going to football matches. I chose to keep it relatively vague as it's just the setting, no players names and so on. Not sure Mr Wenger would approve if I used them anyway, hehe. Some mysteries in the story remain unsolved, but not for long, I assure you. I love reading and replying to what you're all saying so please leave a review, it really does help motivate me to write the next chapters faster. Thanks for reading! xxx**


	17. Sparks

**I have a sneaking suspicion everyone's going to like this chapter a lot. ICF just broke 500 reviews the other day, which is amazing. It also got through to the 2nd round of the Avant Garde Fanfiction Awards in the Best Non-Canon-Pairing category. Votes are highly appreciated! http:/ twilightfb-awards . blogspot . com /p/ vote . html (remove spaces)**

**A huge thanks to all those who are still reading - I love you all.  
**

**** Thanks tiffanyanne3 for the timely beta job. **  
**

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**_Song: Close To Me - The Cure_**

**Chapter 17: Sparks  
**

**BPOV**

"Argh!" I muttered in frustration, sliding another set of hangers to the other end of the wardrobe rail. I was standing in a towel, with dripping wet hair, and it was less than two hours before I had to meet Jasper. I hadn't had time to pick an outfit earlier with all my frantic studying for the Advanced Research Skills exam, and by that point in the day my brain had virtually melted. At this rate, I'd probably end up turning up entirely naked. Although, I had a sneaking suspicion Jasper wouldn't complain about that at all.

I laughed softly to myself as I turned back to my clothes, squinting at the garments in the hope that I'd suddenly discover some hidden potential in something. None of my dresses seemed right. They were too fancy, too short, too tight, too revealing, or too - I just couldn't decide. I'd thought of asking Angela for advice, but I knew she'd be all excited and even if she didn't ask any further, she'd still give me an "I told you so" look with regard to the Jasper thing. I was still in denial about the fact that I was about to go on a date with him. I kept imagining that I'd answer the door all dressed up, and he'd be in jeans and sneakers and look at me like I was total idiot. But that was relatively unlikely, seeing as he'd been the one who'd told me to wear something smart. I guessed that meant a fancy restaurant, and that made me strangely nervous. Jasper didn't seem like the type of guy who regularly frequented those sort of places, but then, it was just another thing that intrigued me about him. He was probably just trying to impress me, and if that was true, well then, it was ridiculously sweet.

I resolved to leave choosing a dress for now and yanked open my underwear drawer, which presented me with a new dilemma. I didn't have much "date-night" underwear, but my normal, boring black or white cotton panties would be a bit of a mood killer if one thing happened to lead to another.

_Which it won't_, I told myself firmly.

That would only complicate things further, and I was fucked up enough as it was. But still, just in case, I didn't want to end up in a Bridget Jones vs. Daniel Cleaver situation. Which didn't explain why I was currently holding up my black lace "cheese-wire" thong, so-called because, well, it was...small, and very thin. Not exactly the most comfortable of undergarments, but that wasn't the point of it. With a sigh, I rummaged around for the matching bra, deciding if I was already going to hell, I might as well do it properly.

...

The elevator doors clanged open, and I stepped out into Covent Garden station. Harassed-looking people streamed past me as I carefully picked my way to the exit, trying to stay upright on yet another pair of ridiculous heels I'd decided to wear. After endless dithering and countless cigarettes, I'd eventually managed to decide on what to wear. Of course, the simple black form-fitting dress I'd eventually chosen wouldn't have looked as good with flats, so I'd gone for style over practicality. However, I had to concentrate on not tripping over and breaking my neck - after all, I was clumsy at the best of times.

It was a balmy evening in the square, and there were endless groups of people milling about or sitting at the various sidewalk cafés. Pausing for a second to rummage in my bag for some lip gloss, I slicked it on and then stood there for a second watching a juggler throwing flame batons. Street performers were common around the area, given that the square was so popular with tourists, and it gave the place a pleasant, relaxed air. That, coupled with the happy crowds, the summery weather, and the fact I was actually going on a real date with Jasper made that night a pretty damn perfect evening, as far as I was concerned. Turning toward the opposite side, I idly watched some people dressed in black tie heading in to the Royal Opera House. I wasn't much of an opera fan, but I was reminded that I'd always meant to go and see one of the ballets there. Perhaps I'd ask Angela if she wanted to go sometime. I was so absorbed in the general sights and sounds of Covent Garden that I didn't notice the figure approaching me.

Seconds later, I felt a warm hand on my back, fingertips pressing to the bare skin where my dress ended. It was almost a caress, and I realised I'd managed to attract some sleazy weirdo. Jolting in surprise, I spun around ready to tell whoever this creep was to get the hell off me, but of course, it was Jasper. Jasper, standing there with an amused smile playing on those gorgeous lips of his, cigarette in hand. His dark hair looked still slightly damp, tousled from the warm evening breeze, and he was wearing this expensive-looking shirt and smart boots. Of course, he still had black jeans on, but they were smarter-looking than the usual scuffed ones he wore. Knowing that he hadn't completely abandoned his emo-grungy ways made me relax a bit, somehow. I breathed out a shaky breath, trying to calm myself down.

"Hi," he said, sounding really happy to see me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you there. I figured you'd assume it was me."

I cringed. In retrospect, I knew I should have realised. "I actually thought it was some creeper trying it on. You're lucky I didn't aim one of my heels at your crotch." _Ohmygod. I mentioned his crotch._ _What the hell? _I slapped myself mentally as my eyes were automatically drawn down there. _Stop, it, Bella! _I wrenched my gaze upwards, trying to stop myself blushing even while I felt the heat flood my cheeks.

He laughed. "It wouldn't be the first time you'd wanted to do that to me."

"True." I grinned. I watched his eyes flicker over me, and it seemed he certainly appreciated my outfit, which was funny considering I'd shoved it on with ten minutes to spare. I'd picked a basic strapless dress after vetoing all my other outfits, deciding to just go with tried and trusted.

"You look really pretty, by the way." His voice was soft, and the warm smile he gave me just then made me feel like my limbs had been liquefied. I shifted from one foot to the other, a tremor making its way down my spine from the knowledge that this wickedly sexy man was mere feet from me. My body had known how I truly felt about Jasper before I did, my physical reaction to his presence only proving my attraction to him. I was still afraid of what it would mean to be involved with somebody new. _Somebody who isn't Edward._ My breath caught as I fought to tamp down those unhelpful thoughts. Regardless of that, I'd run out of reasons why we shouldn't, and something told me that Jasper felt the same.

"Thank you. You look really good too." I couldn't help but be a little amused at our interaction. Over recent weeks I'd had so many conversations with Jasper that ranged from frivolous and shallow to deep and emotional, but as soon as we were aware that we were on a date, it had changed everything. Suddenly, we were all awkward and shy, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say I had butterflies in my stomach. But it was nice. I hadn't felt that way about anybody in such a long time. "So where are you taking me?" I added, curiosity getting the better of me.

Throwing his cigarette down and crushing it under his boot, he smiled. "It's a surprise." He shot me a conspiratorial look, then took my hand and gently tugged me in the direction of a little side street. We walked down it until it curved round a corner, and then headed through different main streets, laughing and talking. I was tempted to ask him where we were going, but he seemed to enjoy surprising me, so I pretended that I wasn't even interested. Eventually, we made our way to a street just off the Embankment and stopped outside a little restaurant with shrubs outside and stylish orchids in pots adorning the entrance. I peered inside as best I could, as it was up a flight of steps, but from what I could see it looked light and warm and thoroughly pleasant. Turning back to him, I saw his eyes shining with excitement and knew that we were finally at the place.

"Here we are," he said easily, gesturing up the steps to the entrance. "This place looks unassuming, but I assure you, it's really nice inside."

Shaking my head, I turned back to him, astounded. Jasper never stopped surprising me. When I'd met him, I never would have assumed he was the kind of guy to take a girl to a quiet, romantic restaurant on a date. However, knowing that it made me appreciate the gesture even more.

"I think it looks great," I told him, slipping my hand into his without thinking. "Thank you for arranging all this, really." He paused for a second as if he was shocked by the physical contact, but then his warm fingers squeezed mine back. Heat bloomed beneath my skin in shuddering currents, and I trembled, though it would be imperceptible to anyone but me. I couldn't even explain the effect Jasper had on me, but my body was already burning with an ill-concealed need for him. Need, desire or a desperate longing for physical closeness - I had no idea which it was, or maybe it was all three.

"It's a pleasure," he replied with one of his heart-melting smiles, and I fought back an intense urge to just kiss him right then and there. We'd spent enough time kissing during our walk after the football game, but it didn't feel right to just get straight back into it.

He ushered me into the restaurant, his hand on my back as we ascended the steps. I wobbled on the top step and nearly lost my balance, but thankfully, his hand caught my arm just in time. I blushed furiously, cursing both the fact that I was clumsy and my decision to wear these stupid shoes I couldn't even walk in. I would have hoped I'd learned my lesson after that night at Esme's, where my feet had been covered in blisters the next day from the walk home, but apparently not.

"Careful, there," he told me as he pushed the heavy glass door open, holding it open for me as I walked inside.

"Shut up," I murmured as we entered the room, refusing to look at him and see the smirk he was obviously sporting. It was filled with a soft glow, accentuated by the pale cream walls and black wooden tables and chairs arranged in perfect lines. There was a mix of customers already there – couples, friends, families - and it seemed like a nice relaxed place with a pleasant atmosphere. Too quiet a restaurant would have made me feel nervous. Here, I felt comfortable, and I hoped Jasper would too. "I'm so clumsy I swear it must be a medical condition or something," I added with a sigh.

"I think it's cute," he said very genuinely, smiling at me in that way that made me virtually turn to liquid.

"It's cute until I break my neck in these stupid shoes."

He looked down at the purple, strappy suede stilettos on my feet, with their four-inch heels, and let out a sharp breath. "I know you can't really walk in those, but hell, they're hot. I'll just hang on to your arm whenever you aren't sitting down."

I pouted. "Are you making fun of me?" He only shot me another enigmatic smile, but I didn't get to hear his response. Right then, the maître d' came over to us, a sharply dressed man gliding as if he were on casters.

"Good evening, do you have a booking?" he said, and his slightly haughty tone didn't escape me.

"I do. Name of Whitlock," Jasper replied smoothly, raising his eyebrow. The man nodded unctuously, his eyes lighting up as he recognised Jasper's name.

"Come this way, please," he told us, taking two menus from his station before gesturing for us to follow him. He led us to this perfect little table in the window, right in front of the balcony doors overlooking the Embankment below. We could see right across the Thames, the lights from either side reflecting patterns on the dark water, and the scores of people moving in the fading light. It was breathtaking. I wasn't a girl easily swayed by romantic gestures, but by God, this was really something. I turned to Jasper, still open-mouthed as the waiter drew out my chair for me. He smiled and nodded to indicate I should sit, but my muscles were still frozen in awe and I didn't move.

I thanked the maître d', who seemed amused at my reaction, and he told us our server would be over shortly. "Oh my God," I said in a hushed whisper as I finally sat down, shaking out the linen napkin and spreading it over my lap. "Seriously, Jasper, who the hell did you have to blow to get a table like this?"

He laughed. "Well actually, the maître d' and half of the wait staff. I feel kind of violated now – but it was worth it." He shuddered in mock horror, and I couldn't help but giggle.

"Thank you," I said, hoping it sounded as heartfelt as I wanted it to. "This is beautiful." I was unable to stop myself reaching out across the table and taking his hand. That time there was no surprise, and he squeezed my hand without hesitation, fingertips brushing each knuckle in turn. I guess he wasn't used to me being so forward, and truth be told, I wasn't either. However, the other night had changed everything. After I'd seen the table he'd managed to secure for us, I had no doubt that Jasper had the same kind of feelings for me that I did for him. I had no idea where it would take us, but without me knowing it, my fear had fallen away.

"It was worth it just to see you look that happy for a second," he said quietly, a slow-growing smile forming on his lips.

"You're sweet, you know," I told him, and all at once his eyes locked with mine, their gaze intense, probing.

"Don't tell anyone," he quipped, breaking the tension, and I laughed. We opened our menus, and I scanned all the delicious choices, unsure what to have from among the dizzying array of options. There was a lot of continental food and general modern contemporary stuff – a nice variety.

"I wasn't totally sure what you'd like," he confessed, "but I felt like I should surprise you properly instead of just asking you where you'd want to go. I chose this place because they have a lot of different kinds of things, so there'd be sure to be something you'd like."

"That's really thoughtful," I told him, turning back to the menu. There were lots of gorgeous-sounding starters: grilled scallops on a bed of lentils and butternut squash pureé, asparagus tips wrapped in bacon, spicy carrot and coriander soup. However, I decided to be boringly predictable and plumped for the wild mushroom and goat's cheese tart. I absolutely adored anything with mushrooms in, so I couldn't resist.

"You can have anything you want, you know," he said incredulously, shaking his head a little. "Have something fancier if you like."

I shook my head. "No, really, I _love_ mushrooms. They're my favourite food ever – for a while they were the only thing I'd eat as a child."

He smiled warmly. "I think I went through a phase of only eating Spaghetti-O's. Not really the same. Mushrooms – that's quite unusual for a little girl."

I bit down on my lip awkwardly, realising I'd strayed into discussing childhood. Considering what he'd told me that night, I didn't want to dredge up any more memories that were painful for him. Hearing an audible sigh, I looked up to see Jasper's eyes fixed on me in an exasperated manner.

"What is it?" I asked, fearfully I'd said the wrong thing.

"Bella, it's okay to mention my childhood," he said, twisting his fingers in the edge of the white linen tablecloth. "It was a long time ago, and I'm over it now, trust me. Don't feel like you can't mention stuff to me. You can talk about whatever you like with me."

"Thanks," I said, my heart beating in my ears. "Well, then, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he said smoothly, his expression soft with adoration, and, from what I could see, just a hint of longing. "You really do look gorgeous, you know."

"Thank you again. You don't look so bad yourself." He grinned, and really, on his part, it was so true. He looked utterly delectable in his dark blazer, smart black jeans and boots. I was about to ask my question, but then another impeccably-dressed waiter appeared at my elbow. Jasper asked me what I'd like, and then we ordered a bottle of white wine and our starters – the mushroom tart for me and the scallops for him. For our mains, he chose sea bass with sauteéd spinach and clam chowder, and I went for pumpkin ravioli in a sage and cream sauce.

Spurred on by the well-timed compliment, I went on to ask him something I'd often wanted to know, but had been afraid to previously verbalise.

"So what was it you wanted to ask me?" he enquired, his gaze open and questioning at the same time.

"Why do you work behind a bar for a living when you're obviously so much smarter than nearly anyone I've ever met?" I blurted out without hesitation. I let out a shallow breath and waited in trepidation for the words to sink in.

I watched a myriad of emotions played across his face: shock, fear, irritation, and a deep, secret sadness I'd only glimpsed once or twice before. And then all at once, everything was gone. The shutters were coming down again. His face was impassive, bland, and a second later, he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

His lips opened as if he were about to speak, but just then, our server arrived with the wine and poured it. As soon as the waiter left, I grabbed my glass and gulped down some of my wine, draining half the glass within seconds. It was delicious – crisp, cold and fruity - and I should probably have savored it, but right then I felt so awkward that drinking seemed the only answer. I still didn't look at Jasper - afraid of what I'd seen in his eyes. But I had a feeling that there was more to it than he was letting on - I'd obviously touched a nerve.

"I'm sorry, I..." I started to say, my eyes remaining fixed on the table cloth so firmly I could see the patterns made by the individual woven threads. Different shades of filmy white thread crossed in several directions – disparate, yet a whole when you looked at them linked together. I wondered what the threads of Jasper's life looked like, and with an inward, sigh, wondered if he'd ever tell me. Before I got through my sentence, however, he cut me off.

"Alright, I'll bite," he said, taking a sip of his own wine. "It was a reasonable question, and as such, deserves a reasonable answer." His eyes locked on mine, alternately teal, turquoise and cerulean in the flicker of the candle. When I found the courage to look back, the real Jasper – a man struggling with himself. The one hidden beneath the good looks and seductive lip-bites, the flirting, the easy smiles and laughter. I realised that I'd seen it all along. The silence swelled, made all the more obvious by the chatter of the other patrons all around us, but neither of us spoke. His hand slid across the table and closed round mine, prising my fingers from the stem of my glass in an intimate yet poignant gesture. The warmth of his fingers melted away any uncomfortable atmosphere, and I felt a renewed confidence. Whatever he was going to tell me, I was ready to hear it. Even if he looked so goddamn beautiful right then I was almost distracted.

"I'm just trying to understand," I told him slowly.

"I know," he said softly, and cleared his throat. "When I tell you, you're going to think I'm insane or something."

I took another sip of the wine, relishing the taste. "Try me. I'm pretty sure I have the market cornered on insanity with some of the things I told you about myself."

He smiled briefly before he spoke again. "Bella, I'm a certified civil engineer, with a specialism in structural engineering."

_Holy hell. He wasn't kidding about the insane part._

I realised I was staring at him, and my eyes were probably as round as saucers in amazement.

"Just call me a chronic underachiever," he said lightly, but he was watching my face as the shock wore off.

"Structural engineering? You mean, like bridges and things like that?"

He nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. Although it's more on the design and analysis side of things rather than the actual building part. You spent a lot of time on the math: calculating forces, how much weight a structure can take, and so on. And once that's done, it gets built and you get to see if your calculations were right and the structure actually stays up." A laugh escaped him at that, and I smiled.

"I seriously can't believe this. I mean, why on earth would you..." I trailed off, knowing he was aware of what it was I'd started to say.

"I'm getting to that. I went to college on a full scholarship and got my MSc in Engineering. Although I had to work part-time at the same time, because, well, I didn't really have the money, and various other things." He said the last part in a rush, and I figured he wasn't keen to go into that in detail. "In the end, I didn't want to be where I was any more. At the time I graduated, a London firm offered to sponsor me to enter the UK and work for them. I liked the work, and somehow I managed to progress into a more senior analysis role within months. That's how I managed to buy my place. Let's just say the salary is...favourable."

He paused, and I blinked, nodding and trying to add up all the missing pieces of the puzzle and failing to make sense of them. "And then what?" I asked, wondering what had driven this obviously intelligent and ambitious man into his current job. Something didn't add up.

There was a casual shrug of the shoulders, and a show of nonchalance, but I saw his eyes tighten at the edges. "And then...I don't know." His tongue darted across his lower lip, and I nearly forgot what he was telling me, but then he continued. "Had a bit of crisis, I suppose. All I know is that I was in a bit of a daze, had no idea what I was doing or where I was going. I jacked in my job after not even a year, spent hours sitting in my apartment getting drunk and taking whatever I could get my hands on. Or I went out and I..." his words trailed off. "Well, you know what I did. You've met Jane. You know what kind of person I used to be."

Jasper's fingers slackened on mine, as if he were giving me the option to let go, but I squeezed his hand. I wanted him to know I accepted him, because he'd always been honest with me from the start about what kind of person he was, even if it had taken me time to get to know him. Strangely enough, the more open he was with me, the more I fell for him. It must have taken great strength for him to admit these things to me, yet there he was, laying them out bare for me to judge him. The least I could do was not pass judgement on the choices he'd made, however strange they seemed.

"Somehow, when I came out of my daze, I found I was working at _Phoenix. _I know it's a surprising step down, but trust me, I was that fucked up for those few months I'm amazed anyone even gave me a job. It wasn't much money, but it's not as if I spend a lot, and I'd saved money from my brief stint as an actual engineer. And there you have it - the way I pissed away my whole career. But don't feel sorry for me or anything. I like my life – it's fine. I have some good friends, and I enjoy my lowly job."

"But is that enough?" The words fell from my lips before I could stop them, a thought that I'd verbalised without even knowing it. I wanted to kick myself, unsure if it was the wine or my curiosity that was making me have absolutely no filter.

"It used to be," was his quiet answer. "Now there are other things I want. Things I...desire." He touched the sensitive grooves in between my own fingers as he said this, and I shivered, my lips parting involuntarily. He was making his feelings for me clear, and we had definitely progressed well past the point of friendship already. There was no point pretending otherwise.

"You told me once that you loved someone. What happened to her?"

"That's something I really don't want to talk about," he said, making an apologetic face. "I'm sorry, I just don't want to bring that into our evening. It's not even a very interesting story."

It was hard to pretend that didn't sting me a little, but I swiftly covered it up, rationalising to myself that in his shoes, I might feel the same way.

"It's okay," I told him smoothly. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I know how that feels. I don't like talking about Edward at all." In spite of myself, a tear spilled from my eye. Jasper saw it too, and in mere seconds, he'd leaned across the table and brushed it away with his thumb. His thoughtfulness and sensitivity were slowly eroding my resolve to not let things go any further tonight and wait and see what it all meant.

"If you ever want to, you can," he said, his hand finding mine again. "I know it seems a bit weird, considering we're on a date, but I don't think anything about this whole thing is usual. And I really do mean it."

"No, it isn't" I agreed, and I was able to even crack a small smile. Just then, the starters came and we fell silent for a second. I cut into my tart and brought a forkful of it to my lips. As I bit into it, I couldn't help but sigh a little. It was utterly delicious on my tongue - flaky pastry with tangy goat's cheese and hints of smoky wild mushrooms. Jasper seemed to enjoy his scallops too, but we decided we preferred our own after trying each other's. For the rest of the evening the conversation was light and flirtatious, both of us needing an escape from everything that was painful and complicated.

We left the restaurant and were still talking animatedly about something when, without warning, he pressed me into the shrubbery outside and his lips found mine. I gasped into the unexpected kiss, his mouth hot and insistent and tasting of everything that we both needed and wanted at that moment. His fingers swept through my hair, twisting into the strands as I rested my hands at the small of his back, continuing to kiss him. Pulling back for a second, his fingers closed on my upper arm before he moved to press a kiss to the corner of my ear.

"What do you want?," he murmured in gravelly tones, and I sighed as his warm breath fanned over my sensitive skin.

"I don't know," I managed, leaning against him. His lips brushed my neck, and I sighed, aching from how much I wanted him to keep on touching me.

"Tell me," he said, and his tone was urgent, almost begging.

"I want to feel something," I whispered, tears pricking at my eyes. "Something real, that isn't meaningless or empty or lonely. I miss him every day, but I'm human, and there are things I need too. What do _you _want?" My heart thudded in my chest as I awaited his answer.

"I don't want," he told me, his gaze literally burning as he looked upon me. "I need. I need you. I know it's too soon and too fast, and that you're still grieving for him. But I can't help the fact I don't want to be alone tonight. That's hard for me to admit, but it's true." I trembled, my eyes widening, and he made a face. "I'm sorry," he added softly. "I shouldn't be saying these things."

But I no longer heard him. My fingers involuntarily reached for the lapels of his jacket as I pressed my body against him and let my lips find his. He gasped, but then responded with a near-violent urgency, the slick heat of his mouth hard and soft and insistent and all at the same time. I moaned as his tongue slid against mine, our kiss open, probing, gentle and desperate at the same time. Every nerve ending in my body tingled, and I slipped one hand into his hair and wrapped one round his hip, wanting to touch everywhere at once but having to choose. It was a perfect kiss, but that time, it wasn't enough. I wanted more. I wanted all of him.

"What do you want?" he murmured between kisses, repeating the earlier question. His hands slid under my cardigan, tracing circles on the bare skin where the straps of my dress begun, and it ignited a slow-burning spark within me.

"I want you," I said, blinking up at him from beneath my heavily-mascaraed lashes."Because when I'm with you, I feel like I'm real." Jasper's warm hand gently nudged my chin upwards, and the deep cerulean of his irises met the warm chocolate of mine. Our faces were close enough together that I could feel his sweet breath on me and breathe in the clean, masculine smell that was quintessentially Jasper. The blue eyes softened, a hint of pure joy shining through them. He brushed the tips of his fingers along my jaw line, and below to my neck.

I ran a hand through his dark waves of hair, marvelling how soft it was under my fingertips, and he didn't give me a chance to say any more. Instantly, he was kissing me again, slow and soft, wet and deep and without the slightest bit of hesitation. As our bodies shifted together, I could feel him already hard and pressed against my thigh and had to bite back a needy, desperate moan.

Finally, his lips came away from mine and we came back to the present, realising we were still on the street outside the restaurant. I blinked, feeling a little dazed, and I wasn't the only one. Jasper's expression resembled one of a man who'd been hit on the head with a sledgehammer. I stepped back, trying to tidy my mussed hair with my hands. Biting down on my slightly-bruised lips, I trembled as an uneven rush of air expelled itself from my lungs.

This situation was as sexually charged as any we had ever been in together, perhaps even surpassing the flirtatious attraction of the night we first met. The atmosphere simmered with a restless anticipation, echoing the desperate desire we both held for one another, but had not so far been willing to unleash. I didn't know what we were doing. I didn't know how I felt. I didn't know what he wanted. All I knew was that I wanted Jasper Whitlock any way he wanted me. Friend, lover, confidante – I would be any of those things.

In the time we'd spent together over the past few weeks, I'd grown to need him, our relationship becoming as much of a crutch for me as it was a healthy development. And if I wasn't much mistaken, he needed me too, just as much as I needed him. I only knew snippets of his past, and sensed he was hiding something more from me, but I trusted him to explain when he was ready. I could have dug into his past further and turned up something, but I resisted. Jasper wore his emotional scars deep inside him, and he was more adept at hiding them than I was. I didn't know if I was ready to deal with his pain as well as my own, as selfish as that sounded. Every moment I spent with this man, he took my pain away, just as surely as the self-inflicted cuts at the top of my thighs did.

"Come on," he said, his voice low and full of the most delicious implications, and when he tugged at my hand insinuating me to follow him, I did so without question. We walked through the streets together, trying to quickly make our way through the summer evening crowds to Embankment station. The underground journey was short, but seemed to take hours when all we could do was hold each other's hands when surrounded by members of the public. Sure, I wanted Jasper, but neither of us wanted to be that disgusting couple making out in front of everybody else in the tube carriage. It was private, something only for us, and that made me desire him all the more.

The rest of the journey and the short walk to his apartment passed in a blur. Before I knew it, I was watching Jasper unlock the door and following him inside. He snapped the light on, and it was just seconds before I was in his arms again, my fingers tangling in his hair as he gave me knee-weakening kisses. It could have been minutes or hours later, but after some time, we broke apart, and I could hear that his breathing was as heavy as mine. I didn't want to wait any longer. I wanted _him_. His hand traced the contours of my face, from my cheek to the hollow of my neck, and I shuddered.

"Bella, I...you're so beautiful," he murmured in a velvet voice, his fingers now tracing a path from my neck to my collarbone, and along the outline of my cleavage in the dress. I sighed, closing my eyes as I felt a sudden moistness in my panties. Without warning, he snatched his hand away as if he'd just burnt it on hot coals.

"What?" I muttered, irritated that he'd interrupted the divine work of his fingers.

"We don't have to, you know..." His voice trailed off, but I couldn't help smirking at how half-hearted he sounded. My eyes naturally strayed downwards and predictably, I could see the outline of his need for me already. A brief memory of our night together all those weeks ago washed over me, and my knees threatened to buckle. As I recalled how amazing it had felt to be with Jasper like that, I suddenly felt annoyed that he was trying to be a gentleman. It was bullshit. He wanted to fuck me as much as I wanted to fuck him, probably even more so. However, I knew that wherever this might go from here, it wouldn't be just_ fucking_. It would be so much more, and we both knew it. I could see that Jasper was thinking the same thing, and suppressed a smile.

"No." I bit my lip. "I want to." My heart thudded in my chest so loudly that I was sure that he had to be able to hear. I wanted this so desperately but was terrified of what it might mean. Even while every fibre of my body ached for his touch, my mind was suddenly preoccupied with the fear of being intimate with another man other than Edward. I'd slept with other men, and even though that night with Jasper had even meant something at the time, this wasn't the same.

"Just let me make you feel good," he whispered in my ear in honey-smooth tones, slowly dragging his teeth over the sensitive outer shell of my ear. My eyes unconsciously darted towards the sofa, but he took my hand, shaking his head. "Come on." I realised that he must have been taking me towards his bedroom, and honestly, I was touched. Judging from what I'd learned of Jasper, he must have felt something close to what I'd felt for him to let me into his room. _And maybe even into his heart._ I mentally slapped myself for that thought, but was distracted as he gently, yet insistently tugged me out into the hall and down to an unfamiliar door, which he opened.

The room was everything I'd expected. Clean, minimalist, with the same glass and chrome shelves that were in the living room. A black wood desk, and a large bed covered with a grey comforter and pillows. I was distracted from my appraisal of the room, however, by Jasper's need for me. He wrapped his arms around me without hesitation, pressing me into the wall as his fingers worked themselves into my hair. His lips met mine and I responded to his kiss eagerly, grasping his ass with one hand as I pulled him close to me. I let out a loud moan of almost embarrassing proportions as he broke the kiss and his warm mouth pressed kisses to the sensitive part where my neck met my shoulders.

I brought one hand round his back as I shifted the other one up, pushing them beneath the confines of his shirt. Jasper let out a groan and lifted me up into his arms, carrying me to the bed before laying me down upon it. It was soft, luxurious and would be perfect for sleeping in. _Somehow, though, I've got a feeling that we're going to be doing anything but sleeping._ I tugged at the hem of his shirt, trying to pull him on top of me, but he took my hands in his, looking down upon me.

"You're the only woman I've ever taken into this bed," he said softly, and I could see that it cost him a great deal to admit this. "And the only one I ever want to be here."

"Were you planning to invite a third party?" I teased, sticking my tongue out. "Charlotte and Pete seem like fun, I mean Pete must be a bit of a tiger, what with his tattoos and..." He placed his finger to my lips, chuckling, and I fell silent.

"There goes my hard-on," he joked. "Seriously - " he continued, reaching down to stroke my cheek. "You're so beautiful, and incredible, and strong and I'm such an idiot sometimes. I never say the right thing, even though I try. I know you're hurting still, and I wish I could take it away. If you just want me to distract you, I can do, but I want to be more than that for you."

I was close to tears now, I'd been so moved by his sincere, honest words. "You _are _more than that," I breathed, sitting up to face him. "So much more. Kiss me again, please." He pulled my mouth to his, surrendering to my request with a groan. Lifting me, he placed me higher up so I was resting on his thighs, straddling him, my knees bent on either side of him. My dress was feeling uncomfortably tight in this position, and I think he realised, seeing as he smirked and his hands snaked round my back to tug down the zip of my little black dress.

"What are you doing?" I said breathlessly, my lips near-stinging in that utterly delicious way that only comes from far too much kissing. Actually, though, it wasn't too much. It was nowhere near enough. I couldn't remember when I'd last wanted a person so badly – longing for them in every inch of my body.

"You look divine in this dress, Bella," he drawled as the zip finally reached the bottom, and I sighed, running my hands over his bare back beneath the shirt he was still wearing. "It was all I could do to not rip it off you and fuck you right then and there, on the expensive tablecloth." I felt as if I might melt into a puddle if I listened to him say those words in his insanely sexy accent again. He rose up on his knees, dropping my legs back to the bed as he took the straps of my dress and peeled it off my body, revealing my black lace bra and thong. Jasper's eyes widened, and I watched his tongue dart over his lips with barely concealed greed.

"I want you naked, too," I whispered, my fingers deftly taking care of each button on his shirt until I could pull it off to reveal his well-defined chest and stomach, and the dark trail of hair that disappeared into his waistband. He obliged, letting me undress him from the waist upwards, but quickly pulling his own jeans off, leaving only a pair of tight black boxer shorts. I could no longer resist and pulled him roughly to me, covering his mouth with hungry kisses as I wrapped my legs round his waist. He muttered "_fuck"_ as his cock grazed against my lace covered centre, and I whimpered at the delicious friction it created. I placed my hands on his chest, pushing him backwards so he lay horizontal on the bed with me straddling him. I squeezed my thighs together and he let out a slight smirk, but allowed me to manoeuvre him.

"Let me, please." My fingers traced the deep v of his hips, and he sighed audibly. Running my eyes over the trail of fuzzy dark hair that snaked from his belly button downwards, where it grew coarser, I unconsciously ran my tongue over my lips. I'd always found the "happy trail" on a man incredibly sexy, and Jasper was no exception. My lips travelled over his neck, chest, ending in a soft kiss just above his navel. I pressed kisses to the faint white scars that were barely visible in the half-light, wondering if he knew how much he was healing my own emotional scars. I looked up as I felt his hands grip my upper arms, and smiled in what I hoped was a coy way.

"Mmm. And where exactly are _you_ going?" There was an undeniably cheeky glint in his eye, and I giggled, briefly shattering the thick sexual tension in the air. "I mean, I don't need any help in that department," - at this point he nodded at the distinct outline showing through his boxers - "but I'm not about to say no."

"Shh," I murmured, placing a quick kiss on his lips before I shifted down his body, hooking my thumbs into the waistband of his boxers oh-so-slowly, dragging out the anticipation even longer. I suddenly began to feel nervous, unsure that I'd be able to please him. I looked up to see Jasper's eyes boring into me. "Do whatever you want," he told me, as if he knew what I'd been thinking. And just like that, all my nerves fell away and I pulled the last scrap of clothing from his body, leaving him naked and glorious before me. His toned arms wrapped around my back, gently pulling me to him so he could kiss me. Waves of pleasure surged through my brain as I tasted his tongue on mine. Nothing else mattered, not even my insecurities. This man was here, and - _oh God, was I about to admit this?_ – I was in love with him. I couldn't deny it any longer.

I trailed my fingers down his torso slowly, my palm splayed out flat against his taut stomach. I bent my head and gently scraped my teeth over one of his nipples, and he jolted. "That's – good," he groaned. Deciding I'd probably tormented him enough, I slowly reached down, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time, and wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock. I squeezed gently, and he closed his eyes, a ragged breath escaping him.

"Is this good?" I murmured, realising I enjoyed the power I had over him at that moment. Working my fingers up his length, I pressed my thumb to the tip of him, spreading the moisture I found there. He was velvet-smooth against my fingertips, and his expression as he watched me was absolutely beautiful.

"Mm-hm," he muttered in a strangled sort of way, apparently incapable of speech. Steadying my other hand against his stomach, I reached down and took him into my mouth. I moaned softly over him, knowing it would add to the sensation. Jasper groaned and brought his hands to my head, twisting his fingers through my hair. Carefully flicking my tongue over the sensitive spot just below the head, I dropped my mouth over him as my hand worked his shaft. The combined motion of my fingers and tongue seemed to be driving him wild, his hips involuntarily jerking as I sped up my movements. I pressed my other hand tightly against his hip to steady him, swirling my tongue over the full length of him as my lips tightened around his cock.

"Fuck," he rasped, and I tightened the fingers wrapped around the lower part of him, licking my way up and down his shaft. His body started to tremble ever so slightly, and I loved that I was eliciting such extreme sensations from him.

"Fuck...Bella..." he cried out, and I linked my free hand into his. His fingers tightened around mine, the knuckles white where he was holding on so tightly. I shifted my grip up and down his length, sucking and licking even faster than before. In response, Jasper held on to my hand even tighter, muttering my name over and over again. I felt him quiver in my mouth, and he loosened his hold on my hand, his whole body tensing up.

I reached down and cupped his balls in my hand, squeezing gently as I continued to stroke him with my mouth, and my name came from his lips as a strangled cry. A moment later, I felt his body spasm, and with a deep groan, he exploded, spilling himself into my mouth. I continued to work him with my mouth and hand, sucking him dry as he shook with his release. Finally, his cock stilled between my lips and I drew back, coughing slightly as I swallowed.

A second later, he sat up and kissed my cheek, tenderly placing a hand on my back. "Sorry," he said with a sheepish laugh. "I know it doesn't exactly taste like a candy bar."

"Not quite." I grinned, I honestly didn't mind, though. Knowing that I gave Jasper that much pleasure thrilled me immensely. Besides, it wasn't like he tasted _bad_, just slightly bitter.

"See, you had no reason to be nervous," he murmured into my hair, still somewhat breathless from the intensity of his orgasm. "I have to tell you, that was so fucking amazing. And you're very good at that, by the way."

I couldn't help flushing with pleasure at that comment, but had no time to process it as he instantly threw me down on the bed, covering my lips with hot, hungry kisses as his strong hands roamed every inch of my body. His palms cupped my breasts, and he gently pinched one of my nipples before enveloping it in his warm mouth, teasing it to a hard peak. I gasped, fairly sure that I was about to hyperventilate. _Is this really happening?_ He licked my other nipple, and I felt it pebble under his tongue as his fingers trailed over the curves of my body, coming to rest on my hips. I whimpered as he sucked on the skin of my hip, leaving a small mark. Catching the slight smirk playing on his face, I realised that he was marking me as his own, literally. This small gesture spoke volumes about his feelings for me, and made me want him even more, if that was possible.

"Your skin tastes like vanilla," he murmured, his lips still pressed against my hip, and the hum of his voice made my body sing. "I could run my tongue over it all day. Perhaps sometime, I will." My eyes just about rolled back into my head at that comment, and a sharp wave of desire flooded me. If I heard him say that to me again, God, I...I had no idea what would happen.

Jasper's hands fell to my knees, and they opened automatically as his hard body slid up in between them. His slightly rough hands felt unbelievable on the skin of my torso, and I let out an embarrassingly loud moan as he swirled his tongue in my navel, teasing me. The lace of my underwear was quickly becoming near-soaked from his ministrations. This man was inflicting exquisite torture on me, but I wasn't complaining.

"You're so soft," he whispered against my skin, dragging his fingers down until they pressed against the front of my thong. His thumb began to trace cruelly slow circles around my clit, never quite touching it. I really felt as if I might explode if he didn't do something soon. However, it seemed that in the next second he'd answered my thoughts, as he looked at me with a look of what I could only describe as pure lust.

He insistently tugged my thong to the side, and I jolted as his hot, wet tongue slid over me, pressing briefly to my clit. I cried out, my hands gripping the sheets. "Couldn't wait to get them off," he said hoarsely, his eyes flashing with desire, and I sighed in response. His lips returned to my inner thigh, placing tantalising kisses below, above and side to side, just short of where I wanted his mouth.

It felt as if I was having an out-of-body experience. After Jasper and I had agreed to be friends, and he'd found out more about me, I'd never expected us to ever even get to this point again. _What if he thinks we're making a mistake?_ My chest constricted at that thought, a shallow, stilted breath escaping from me. My body tensed slightly, and Jasper felt it as my thighs tightened, involuntarily closing slightly.

He looked up at me, resting his palms on the inside of my thighs. "Bella, relax," he whispered, leaning over me so he could kiss me on the lips briefly. "You're beautiful. Just relax."

I breathed in deeply, reminding myself of how much I wanted Jasper, and how much this meant to both of us. He resumed his gentle kisses between my legs and parted them even further, letting each one fall to the side. Pulling at the lace at the top of my legs, he quickly removed my pathetic excuse for underwear, and that was it.

Now I was entirely vulnerable and exposed, and in more ways than one. The intensity of the feelings I had for him terrified me, but not enough that I ever wanted to stop having them. I had little time to dwell on this, however, as he slowly slid two fingers inside me. Trying not to be loud, I let out a quiet whimper, clapping my hand over my mouth as he deftly curled his fingers inside me, pressing them against that amazing spot where all the tension in my body was concentrated. Momentarily, he paused, and his other hand tugged mine away from my mouth.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his fingers still buried inside me.

"I just didn't want to make a totally stupid noise," I admitted sheepishly.

He sighed. "I'd be happy to hear any of the so-called 'totally stupid' noises that come out of your mouth. For your information, I find them incredibly hot." He accompanied that statement by gently twisting his fingers inside me, and that time I didn't suppress the unabashed moan I made.

I couldn't help a small laugh at that, and marvelled at how Jasper was so good at making me feel at ease. It was ridiculous really, considering that we'd already had sex. But that was a while ago, and everything about our current situation felt totally different. The stakes were higher. Unknown to him, I'd cashed in all my chips and laid my highest bet on the table – my heart. Once it had belonged to only one man, but I finally felt like I might be ready to take the risk of letting another into it.

His head dipped to my neck, his tongue tracing a shape on my neck, and my breathing caught.

"You're fucking delicious," he muttered, his words soft and mesmerising. "I told you I love the taste of your skin – and I do, but it's nothing compared to the taste of you there." Knowing how much he loved tasting me turned me on even more, and I allowed myself to relax.

He placed soft kisses and licks on my inner thighs, changing his direction all the time, but never quite where I wanted him. Slowly, Jasper's long fingers began to move inside me and he finally brought his mouth to the warmth between my legs, ending his teasing. He took a long, languorous lick, flattening his tongue over me, and I cried out. His hands gripped my thighs tightly as he slowly licked at my wet folds, flicking his tongue over my clit. My hands involuntarily clutched at the sheets as his mouth kissed and pressed, drawing low moans from me. I was already coiled so tightly from the whole of the sexually-charged evening that I'd been on the verge of coming literally as soon as his mouth had closed over me.

"Is this good?" he muttered quietly, echoing me from earlier, and I gasped as I felt his words vibrate over my aching flesh.

"Fuck, yes," I heard myself say, and then flushed, a little embarrassed.

He sighed and raised his head for a second, slipping his fingers out of me to smooth his hands over my thighs. "Close your eyes," he told me. "Relax. Don't think, just feel. Feel everything I'm doing." His blue eyes were dark in the half-light, and so utterly open and piercing that I moaned, my eyes snapping shut once again. Resuming, he varied his movements, hard and soft licks eliciting what I could only describe as porn-worthy sounds from me. As he began to suck on me, I moved my fingers to twist them in his hair, begging him to keep going. All I knew was the warmth and wet of his mouth against my sensitive flesh, his fingers tracing my thighs, my whimpers and moans as they filled the quiet room. All I felt was Jasper's hands, lips, tongue. I'd never felt more uninhibited, more alive, or more desperate for release.

_Please, more. More._

I could feel the pressure building already, waves of heat surging up from beneath my skin as he pleasured me so wickedly. I willed for more, but the teasing bastard seemed determined to go achingly slowly, keeping me on the brink. Seconds later, I felt a finger circle my entrance and he pushed it in gently, and then added another, and another. "Jasper!" I cried out, and my hips jerked involuntarily, but his other hand held me fast. He began to pump his fingers in and out of me, slowly and then faster as his tongue swirled over my clit. I tightened my grip on his hair, probably hard enough to hurt as his name fell from my lips like a prayer, every muscle in my body tensing as the heat flickered within me. My legs clamped around his head, and I felt myself teetering on the edge, breathless with desire as I begged for release.

As he curled his fingers inside me, he hit that indescribably sweet spot and that, coupled with his licks and nibbles on my clit, undid me. Shaking and trembling, I felt the heated spirals engulf my entire body as I bucked my hips against his mouth, screaming his name as I came harder than I could ever remember. Just when I thought it was over, aftershocks fired through me, and I continued to clench around his fingers for a full minute afterwards. Withdrawing his fingers, he ascended my body slowly, his lips touching my skin in feather-light kisses as they went. Lying down beside me, he pulled me into his arms, and for a few moments, we lay still, my breathing still ragged from what was possibly the strongest orgasm I'd ever experienced.

"My God," I sighed when I was finally able to speak.

"I guess I am, huh?" Jasper replied with a cheeky grin.

"I hope that was, you know, alright for you too," I said quickly, and he laughed, shaking his head in amazement.

"Bella, if you really want confirmation of how much I enjoyed that, all you have to do is look down."

I followed his gaze and gulped, seeing that he was already rock hard again.

"You're fucking magnificent when you just allow yourself to feel pleasure without worrying and overthinking everything."

I smiled, but my mind wasn't really there right then. My gaze fell on the black, green and white shades of the tattoo on his bicep, and again, I wondered. I watched the vines that twisted over his upper arm move as his muscles rippled, and again, I wondered.

"Are you ever going to tell me who she was?" I asked softly, afraid to question him on a subject that was obviously sensitive for him. "I know it's not as simple as you pretend it is." On the other hand, I had to say it. He froze for just a second, his face becoming blank like a mask. _I knew I shouldn't have asked that._

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_**Muahahaha. I'm evil. Reviews are adored, as always. Thanks for reading xxx**_  
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	18. Conflagration

**It took them a while to get to this point - but here we are. I hope you like this chapter, and don't want to kill me when you reach the end of it. Don't say I didn't warn you - but it's all delicious and smutty to make up for it. I puffy heart you all for reviewing and I'm working on replies now.**

**For any slash fans: I posted a Edward/Jasper slash oneshot, _Woodsmoke and Cinnamon_ - if that's your cup of tea, give it a read.  
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**** Thanks to my beautiful SydneyTwiMum for the pre-read and my beta tiffanyanne3, who I learn more from every day. ****

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**_Song: Witchcraft - Pendulum_**

**Chapter 18: Conflagration**

**JPOV  
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"_Are you ever going to tell me who she was?"_

I blinked, a little thrown by her question at that particular moment. Clearly I would have to tell her eventually, and Lord knows, I'd wanted to tell her so many times. But I was afraid that if I did, I'd never be this close to her again. Nor did I mean that in a purely sexual sense. "It's not important," I told her flatly, nibbling at the delicate shell of her ear. It was a cowardly attempt to distract her, and it appeared to have worked. She'd fallen completely silent. I breathed a sigh of relief, abandoning my fear in the wake of my need for Bella.

My hands wandered over the soft, luscious curves of her body, my palms brushing her thighs, hips, breasts in the softest whisper. I rose up on my knees and pulled her to me, finding her lips in a frenzied kiss. Her lips moved with mine insistently, and as my tongue pushed into her mouth she let out this breathy moan. At that moment, I swear I became even harder. Her small hands ran over my back, the nails digging in hard enough to hurt, and I groaned deeply. Cupping her ass, I lifted Bella so her weight was resting on my bent knees.

"What do you want?" I muttered, before I sucked at the skin of her collarbone, making a wet sound as my mouth released itself. Her legs were wrapped around me, and I felt her pressed up against my cock, warm and wet. I couldn't believe how wet she was, and I could barely wait to be inside her. I'd probably prepared her thoroughly enough with the attentions of my fingers and tongue, but all the same, I wanted to wait until both of us could barely stand it any longer.

Despite the fact both of us had already come, it was obvious that the night wasn't even close to over. I was in awe of the sexual power this woman had over me – I was unable to even begin to understand how she affected me. My God, Bella had given me what just might have been the best blow job of my life. Of course, I'd reciprocated, but I wanted to give her more. I wanted to hear her cry out my name as she clenched and shuddered around my cock. I _needed_ her.

"I want..." - she began, her fingers digging into my back as she spoke into my ear - "I want you to fuck me. Please." The last word fell from her lips as the barest whisper, and at that moment, I think I fell in love with her just a little bit more. That thought didn't even surprise me. _I love Bella. _I tried it out in my head, testing the way the words sounded – and I liked them. It both terrified and thrilled me, the amount I needed her. After tonight, we wouldn't be the same. It was more than just fucking. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I kissed her again as I felt her shift against me.

Planting her feet on the mattress either side of me, she lifted herself off me, sliding her wetness along my shaft. I sighed at the delicious friction she was creating, and fought for control. It felt so ridiculously good I was at risk of just losing it right then, and I didn't want her to think I was incapable of controlling myself. I moved my hands to her ass and squeezed it, guiding her movements as she slid up and down, never quite reaching the top.

From what I could remember of our previous time together, it was amazing. But this time she was in my bed. I was able to do whatever I wanted with her without the constraints of uncomfortable walls and furniture. I pressed the tip of myself against her clit, and she cried out "Jasper". My name on her lips undid me, and if she said it again I was probably going to explode.

"Okay, stop, stop," I muttered breathlessly, wrapping my fingers around her hips to hold her still. A knowing grin appeared on her face, and I laughed. "You're far too sexy," I told her. The next second, she blushed furiously, and I was reminded of this different side to her. Bella could be wild, but I had a feeling she was embarrassed of it. That was something I'd have to remedy.

I was still holding her hips fast, but lessened the pressure of my fingers slightly, fearing I'd leave a bruise. The possessive freak inside me kind of liked the idea of marking her as my own, but she was mine at that moment anyway. _All mine._ I moved backwards slightly, lifting her over me. She braced herself against my body, and I ran the head of my cock between her lips, teasing her.

_So fucking wet and warm._ _Please._

I resisted the urge to push her down on me, wanting to let her control the pace. She breathed in deeply, and our eyes locked, the brown irises searching the blue of mine. Her arms wound round my neck, and for the first time in a long time, I felt at home. Because Bella was my home now.

With another deep breath, she pressed down. I slowly sank into her, letting her bear down until the whole length of me was inside her. She was so hot and wet and...o_h God. _I marvelled at being able to properly feel all of her for the first time. She buried her face in my neck with a low moan, wrapping her legs around me tightly, and my breath caught in my chest. "Fuck," I said, gritting my teeth and fighting the urge to slam her down upon me again.

"I can't tell you how good that feels, Jasper," she breathed in my ear. Hearing her say my name was almost more than I could take, and I let out a strangled groan. Thankfully, she realised I was already on the edge and stayed still, waiting till I was ready for her to move. After a moment or two, I tipped my hips up as she lifted herself over me, pulling almost all the way out before she pushed back down. Her fingernails clawed my back as I thrust into her, gripping her hips as she moved over me.

"Let me see you," I told her, nipping her ear with my teeth as I panted hot into her neck, deepening my thrusts. Raising herself up, she leaned back, hands braced against my shoulders, and I splayed my palm out flat against her back, keeping her steady. Bella pushed down upon me even harder, using her feet for leverage, and I thought how fucking magnificent she looked. Her hair was wild, falling in soft curls around her face, her skin flushed, her eyes rolling back into her head until they would snap back to meet my gaze. Pulling her back towards me, I kissed her fiercely, my tongue sliding into her mouth as I rocked inside her, trying to keep my movements slow enough to ensure her pleasure. She moaned into my mouth, and I dropped my head to her shoulder, panting, trying to steady myself. It was too much, she was _so_ fucking tight...

"Oh fuck, Bella..." I muttered with a groan, a mixture of pleasure and pain as her nails scratched my back each time I sunk into her. On the subject of pain, my knees were actually really starting to cramp up in this position. "Can I?" I asked, straightening my back, and she knew what I wanted.

"Uh-uh," she said faintly, and allowed me to press her back into the mattress as I leant over her, never breaking the connection our hips made. Her body bowed backwards, and she let out a small whimper through parted lips.

"Bella," I murmured as I began to move within her again. "Bella." I carried on whispering her name, which she met with moans and gasps. I cared for this woman so much, and I could no longer pretend otherwise. Bella had worked her way into my heart, and I would be with her in any way she'd let me. Although, thinking was becoming pretty impossible at that moment. I could feel the hot burn deep within me, my insides searing as her hips met my thrusts, again and again. Hitching her leg up on my hip, I wrapped my hand round the back of her knee, holding it against her body.

As I filled her yet again, I knew it was so much deeper now. It felt fucking amazing, and judging by her reaction, she was enjoying it too. "Oh, God," she cried, her hands twisted in the sheets. Dropping her leg back to the bed, I slipped my hand in between our bodies and found her clit, spreading our combined moisture over it as I rubbed slow circles around it. Her legs tightened around me like a vice as her ankles pressed into my ass, urging me on.

"I don't know if I can..." I choked out, steadying my other hand against her hip. She tugged me towards her, her teeth sinking into my neck as she cried out.

"Oh God," she muttered against my skin, her words tailing off with a groan. The fire was tightening inside me, and I knew I could probably let go any second. But I wanted to feel her come around me first, and so I continued to carefully thrust upwards into her while my fingers coaxed her ever closer to the brink. Her breaths were as stilted and shallow as my own. The muscles in the pit of my belly tightened, and I let out a guttural moan in her ear, holding her so tight it probably hurt her.

_Please let her be fucking close._

"Jasper, I'm gonna..." she cried, every muscle in her body tensing as she quaked and shuddered with her release, clenching around me. I fell over the edge right after her, muttering a stream of expletives I couldn't suppress as the white heat rose and fell within me. Seconds later, I collapsed on top of her, laying there a moment to catch my breath. I tried not to crush her too much, but she didn't seem to mind. Our bodies were slick with sweat, and I could feel her heart pounding a jagged rhythm from where my head rested on her chest.

"That was..." she said breathlessly, trailing off before she could complete her sentence.

"I know," I replied, kissing her to show that I knew exactly what she meant. Slowly, I withdrew and lifted my weight off her, settling down beside her. For a moment she seemed wary. Perhaps she was afraid I was going to suddenly turn into Mr Emotional Fuckwit again. Jeez, I was even afraid that I would. But no. I felt like I could be open, vulnerable with Bella. Not that I'd turned into a complete sap, but I just felt comfortable around her. Hoping to set her at ease, I wrapped my arms about her, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo as her hair brushed against my cheek. That part definitely felt strange for me. It had been a long time since I'd been that intimate with somebody after sex.

My God, I was tired. My head hit the pillow next to hers, and I felt my eyes closing slightly. I pressed a kiss to her neck, shifting her closer towards me. In this position, her ass was rubbing against my frankly exhausted cock and I felt slightly ashamed as it began to harden yet again.

"What's that?" Bella laughed, teasing me. "Aren't you tired after what we just did?"

"You're just too delectable, darlin', that's your problem," I told her, pretending to bite her neck in illustration of that statement. "I'm way too tired for anything else though, I have to say."

She giggled, turning so she faced me, and propped herself up on an elbow. "Thank God for that. I don't think I could take another round right now."

"I'm just that good?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe," she replied, sticking out her tongue playfully. Her eyes slid downwards from my face, and I followed her gaze down to my right bicep, where it stopped. I inwardly groaned.

_Can she ever give up on this for just one minute?_ Apparently not, as her small fingers caressed the contours of the ink, circling the outside of the tat.

"Jasper?" she asked quietly.

"Mmm?" I replied sleepily, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I -" she started, sounding unsure. "I'm really glad you're here." Spots of red appeared on her cheeks, but I took little notice. I breathed a silent sigh of relief in my head, not wanting to lose this moment with her. Darkness lurked just beyond the horizon, but for now, I sought to stay within the light with Bella.

"So am I," I told her, pulling her close to me. My heart thudded in my chest. I suddenly had the feeling that she might have been about to say something else. And if it was what I thought, then I had to tell her something. I owed her an explanation of who I really was.

_Was I really going to do this now? _I didn't want her to think I'd avoided telling her just to get some. It wasn't like that.

"Bella," I said, clearing my throat. "I think I might know what you wanted to say and, I just...fuck! I really feel it too. Don't make me say it. But there's something you don't know about me."

Her features twisted into a frown, her eyes bulging in their sockets at my unexpected change of tone. To my surprise and pleasure, she placed her other hand on my back in a gentle and soothing touch.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me right now."

Part of me was jumping for joy that she hadn't yet denied the first thing I'd said, and that meant that maybe she..loved me too. Simultaneously, the other part was terrified, yearning for her acceptance while at the same time knowing this revelation would change everything.

"I think you deserve to know what this really means," I said softly, running my fingers over the ink imprinted on my skin, tracing the familiar letters I knew so well that spelled out "Ava".

Bella closed her fingers upon my arm, gripping it tightly. Her expression was one of utter confusion. "What does it mean?" She sat up, tucking the comforter around her protectively.

_Say goodbye to her, Whitlock_.

As much as I wanted not to believe that thought, I knew it was a possibility. This was the biggest risk I'd taken in a long time, but I had to tell her. I had to spill my darkest secret before we got any further down the road than we had so far. I took a deep breath.

"Bella, Ava was my daughter."

I watched her mouth fall open slowly, and she gasped softly.

"Where is she now?" she asked in a strained voice, although I guessed that by my use of the past tense, she probably already knew the answer.

My heart thumped faster in my chest, and the blood in my veins chilled as I waited to answer her. Even after all this time, I still struggled to accept the words I was about to say. "She's dead."

"Oh God, Jasper, I had no idea..." She sounded shocked and horrified. Her fingers were digging into my arm painfully by that point, but I doubt that she even noticed. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't - say that," I said, my speech becoming disjointed. After a moment, her eyes met mine, and they were full of so much pity that I briefly feared that a sob was going to burst forth from me. Looking away, I cast my eyes down and managed to suppress the tears before they came. No way did I want her to feel sorry for me. I wanted her to know just what it was I'd done. I turned my gaze up to meet hers, hating myself every second I looked into her kind, concerned face. I was unworthy of such attention.

"I killed her."

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**So, okay, I know that was an entire chapter of smut, but I figured it was called for. This was a lot shorter than the last one, but that was unusually long. Poor Jasper, eh? I've got the next update in the pipeline already so you won't have to wait too long to hear the full story. But don't assume Jasper's an evil, bad person - you'll see he isn't. It's a lot for someone to hide, though, so I hope it sheds some light on his earlier behaviour in the story. I know of at least one reader who guessed right as to what his past was, and I'd love to know if anyone else did - I dropped a lot of hints.**

**If you can just hang on through a little heartfail there is some great stuff coming up for these two. I love you all for reading and making me smile with the wonderful things you say. Thankyou xxx  
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	19. Knowing

**I took longer with this one than I hoped I would, but I was sorting things out and I start a new job Monday so I was going through the interview process. I also wanted to make sure this chapter was just right as it's so pivotal. Without further ado, here's Jasper's story. Reviews are brilliant and I adore each and every one of you who's still reading this, and welcome any new readers.**

*** Note: Serious tissue warning. *  
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**** Huge love for SydneyTwiMum, both an awesome pre-reader and a supportive friend**. **And to tiffannyanne3 who betas thoroughly and quickly. ****

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_**Song: By Starlight - Smashing Pumpkins**_

**Chapter 19: Knowing  
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**BPOV**

_"I killed her."_

Those three words echoed in my brain, yet it still couldn't process them. My grip on Jasper's upper arm loosened, and I saw I'd made white marks in the skin where I'd been holding on so tightly. I'd already been reeling from the revelation that Jasper had a daughter, and my mind had immediately gone into overdrive over all the possibilities. And then to hear that she was dead - that had shattered every preconception I'd had about Jasper when I'd met him. My instant response had been one of overwhelming pity for a man who'd suffered so much so young, but it turned out that wasn't the whole story.

"W-what?" I stammered when I finally found the words, unable to even articulate myself in the most basic sense. His face was turned away, and he didn't answer, but my ears picked up a soft sound that punctuated the darkness. It sounded like a sob, and when he shifted away, I thought it best to leave him for a moment. I waited, clutching the sheets tighter round myself as every shocking fact reverberated in my mind. My heart pounded, the dull rush of blood surging through veins seeming to grow louder with every second that passed. The floorboards creaked, but I remained still, holding onto the sheets as my hands started to tremble.

He'd killed his daughter? My initial instinct was fear, but I felt like I already knew him well enough to realise that there was far more to it than he was letting on. By that point, my heart was thudding almost painfully. The weight of the bed shifted as I felt him sit down next to me, and his fingers tipped my chin up gently but insistently. My face shook as I finally found the courage to meet his eyes. While my mind had been in overdrive, he'd managed to grab a robe and put it on. His face was drawn as he met my gaze, and as he cast his eyes down. For a brief moment, I thought I saw a single tear glistening on the lashes of one of his eyes. However, he blinked and then I wasn't sure I'd even seen it. I was afraid of what I was about to hear - afraid it would change everything, afraid that we wouldn't be _us_ anymore. What had just transpired between us had been the inevitable culmination of weeks of trying to deny our feelings for one another. What I hadn't known was that he had his own reasons for being cautious – not unlike mine He'd been more understanding about Edward's death than I could have ever envisioned, and it was because he knew first-hand what it was like to lose someone he loved. He'd lost his _child_. That itself brought up so many more questions. He must have surely had a girlfriend, or a wife. And where was she?

"I didn't mean to say that so suddenly," he whispered urgently, sweeping a hand across his eyes. "And I know what you're thinking right now, but for the love of God, can you please just hear me out before you pass judgement on me?"

I nodded slowly, knowing that I owed him that much. I couldn't equate the Jasper I'd spent time with over recent weeks with a murderer. _He couldn't be, could he?_ The very thought was abhorrent, and yet my mind had been in overdrive ever since he'd spoken those three words that had changed everything. It was in my neurotic, analytical nature to consider all the angles of a situation, even the most unlikely ones.

"Bella, I'm not a murderer," he said, and my throat constricted. "I made a terrible mistake one day, a mistake I'm never going to be able to put right."

I wanted to believe him so badly. I couldn't even think that he was capable of killing someone, but if he had, what were the circumstances? I had to know, even though it would change everything that we'd slowly built over recent weeks.

"You didn't mean to?" I asked, regretting the way I'd phrased the question the moment the words were out of my mouth.

"There was an accident," he said slowly, swallowing as he spoke. "And no, of course I didn't mean to, but it was still my fault."

I froze. _Oh God._ Even though I didn't know what he was going to say, I reached out and took his hand, clasping it in my own. He blinked in surprise but didn't pull his hand from mine.

"How old was Ava?" I asked carefully, using the name that I knew referred to her.

"Eighteen months." Tears brimmed in my eyes, which seemed ridiculous as it wasn't even my situation. All the same, though, it broke my heart to think that Jasper had lost his little girl when she was that age. Gently, he slipped his hand from mine and he got up and walked over to the window, his back to me. It was obvious he didn't want me to see his face, and I stayed, letting him have the privacy he wanted.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, not knowing what else I could say.

"Don't be. I'm sorry enough myself," he said weakly. "I want to tell you, but it's hard to, because nobody really knows. I don't tell people. I hate them knowing what I really am."

"Take your time," I said, leaning over and quietly opening one of the bedside drawers. I found an old t-shirt and pulled it on, not really wanting to just sit wrapped in the sheets while he told me something of that magnitude.

At least five minutes passed before he spoke again, but I let the silence run, knowing that I needed to let him tell me in his own time.

"She drowned."

My stomach clenched, and I was filled with a wave of overwhelming pity for Jasper. It was on the tip of my tongue to say "Oh God, I'm sorry", or something else in that vein, but I remained silent. If he was telling me his story, I shouldn't intrude upon it until he was finished.

"She drowned," he repeated, "and it was my fault." His voice caught on the last word, and I longed to go to him and say or do anything that would make him feel better, but no. Not right then.

"There was a pond in our garden when we moved in," he continued, his hands gripping the windowsill tightly. "I was working on filling it in with dirt and concrete because we had no need for it, really. I'd just got a drainage pump to siphon the water off, and I was going to tackle it that afternoon. I put Ava down for a nap, and then thought I'd work on starting to drain the pond. I had a big heavy cover that was always on the pond, too heavy for a child to move. I realised I'd left a part in the house, and so when I went back inside to look for it, I didn't put the cover on. I was only planning to be a couple of minutes. It sounds stupid, but I got distracted and ended up falling asleep. I'd had a late shift at the bar I worked at part-time the night before, and I was tired."

My breath caught, and I had a sudden terrible sense of foreboding. I could see exactly what had happened before he had even explained it.

_No._

Right then, the cloud cover shifted and the moon's glow shone on the darkened room, illuminating the figure standing in the window. He was shaking, and I knew it took every ounce of effort for him to continue.

"I woke up and it was getting dark outside," he went on, and in the moonlight, I saw a silent tear slip down his cheek. "I went into her room and when she wasn't in her crib, my heart stopped. I didn't know that she'd started climbing out of it sometimes. When I looked around the house to see if she'd gotten herself into any mischief, she wasn't there and I was starting to get really worried. Finally, I went out into the garden, and she..."

He broke off with a wrenching sob, and I couldn't stand it any longer. Throwing the sheets off my legs, I got out of bed and crossed the floor to the window. I let my arms encircle him from behind, resting my head against his back, just somehow trying to let him know that I cared. His body stiffened at the contact at first, but then his hand found mine, holding it against me, and I knew he appreciated the gesture. Unclasping my arms gently, he turned round, and I could see his eyes were glistening with fresh tears.

"She was face down in the water, completely still. I – I panicked and dragged her out and called 911. They told me what to do while the ambulance was on its way. Water came out of her mouth when I gave her CPR, but she never responded to me. Still, I couldn't believe that there was no hope. When they got there – I don't know, it's all a blur. All I recall is that I couldn't stop screaming, and they had to pull me off her so they could do their work. I just remember thinking that I _had_ to help her, that I couldn't let her die. When we got to hospital, they told me there was nothing more they could do. She'd been under water for about five minutes and she was brain damaged. She'd never wake up."

Blue eyes met mine, and they were etched with a raw, acute pain that splintered my heart. As I looked upon Jasper, I felt every inch of the grief and shame and pain that he had to lock away every second for fear of being judged. I didn't see an irresponsible person who'd killed their child by carelessly not leaving the cover on the pond. Instead, I saw a broken man who'd never forgiven himself for a mistake that led to a dreadful accident. It was malign luck of the worst kind, and he couldn't have known what would happen.

"Oh, Jasper..." I whispered, unable to find the words to express how awful I felt for him. He'd lost everything.

"I'll be alright," he told me in a strained voice, and I retreated, moving to perch on the edge of the bed again. "I just haven't spoken about it in so long. It's odd what I still remember, even though it's been years. I was in this relative's room that I think they take people into when they give them bad news, and I just lost it. It smelled of this sickly lilac air freshener. There was a painting of a sailboat on the wall, and it looked so maddeningly calm and peaceful I couldn't stand it being there. I grabbed it and threw it on the floor, smashing into a thousand pieces. They could have thrown me out of the hospital for that, but luckily, the nurse was understanding and just cleaned it up. They let me go and sit with her for a while when they were done with everything. Her mom didn't want to, said it hurt too much. I just wasn't ready to let her go yet. She looked so beautiful, almost like she was sleeping, but her skin was ice cold and her lips all blue from being in the water. She was so small, and I was supposed to be the one who protected her, kept her safe. Instead I..." He trailed off, choking back tears, and my chest felt tight, every breath an effort.

I twisted my finger and thumb in the sheets, trying to stop myself from crying too. I didn't want Jasper to think he was upsetting me – I just felt desperately sorry for him and poor little Ava, and not only in a pitying way. The whole story was horrendous, and I couldn't believe that he'd managed to keep something like that hidden. There was more I didn't know, though, and I felt as if I had to know. Who was Ava's mother, and what part had she played in Jasper's life?

"A week later, we buried Ava," he said in hollow tones, his voice slightly more controlled than it had been seconds before. "And that was it. She was gone, and then there was nothing. I don't even remember those early days; they were a blur of the most fucking awful pain I've ever felt. A few weeks later, I went back to school to keep on with my engineering degree. Alice thought I was callous for doing that, but it was the only thing that distracted me."

"Alice?" I enquired softly, realising it was the first time I'd ever heard that name.

"Ava's mother. She was my wife, Bella."

My head spun. Never in a million years would I have ever suspected that Jasper had once been married, but really, nothing surprised me about him any more.

"What happened to her?" The question sounded intrusive as it fell from my lips, but he was rarely that open and honest with me, and I wanted to be able to ask these things.

His beautiful lips twisted into a bitter smile. "She left me. We're divorced."

Immediately, I wondered when it had happened, and if they'd still been together when their daughter died. With everything Jasper told me, my head filled with a thousand more questions that I didn't feel as if I should really ask.

"I may as well tell you everything," he said after a few moments, turning to face me and wiping a hand across his moist eyes. "I'm sorry, this must sound so strange, me talking to you about another woman when we've just slept together."

"It's not strange," I assured him, shaking my head. "She was the mother of your child."

"I met Alice when I was sixteen – I guess we were childhood sweethearts, or whatever you want to call it. That was about when I started to get out of my rebellious phase. My aunt Maria always swore that it was Alice's influence, and it probably was. She was so smart and always worked hard in school, and I guess I started to pay attention too. I got my grades up enough to start an Msc in engineering at college, and Alice went to fashion school part-time while working in a dressmaker's cutting clothes. She wanted to be a designer one day, and at that time, we were both really ambitious people looking forward to an exciting future together. When we finished college, we wanted to go backpacking for a year and see the world. But sometimes fate has other plans."

I smiled sadly. How well I knew that a twist of fate could shatter the most carefully-laid plans.

"When we were nineteen, we found out she was pregnant. It wasn't what we'd planned, but I loved her and I wanted to make it work. I wanted to do the right thing by her, so we married that same year and Alice's parents helped us to put a deposit down on a place in Atlanta. " With a pause, he crossed to where I was sitting on the bed and tentatively sat down beside me.

"That must have been strange when you were so young," I mused, placing my hand on top of his. He looked up and shot me a sad smile.

"Sometimes it was. While my classmates were playing beer pong in the dorm, I was changing nappies and fixing up our apartment. But Ava made it all worthwhile. And Alice and I were happy, despite how young we were."

I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. What Edward and I had was love, not just teenage infatuation, and I didn't doubt that for some, you'd found the right person even when you were young. Tears pricked my eyes as I recalled how good it felt to just know that somebody cared the most about you in the entire world, and that you felt the same for them, too. Jasper had lost that just as I had, albeit under different circumstances.

My eyes flickered to Jasper's, and I could see the pain etched on his face. "After she died, everything changed," he continued, his breathing shallow. "Alice didn't say it at first, but I knew she blamed me for what had happened. And I blamed myself, thinking what if I hadn't worked that extra shift at the bar and been so tired, what if I hadn't fallen asleep, what if I'd just put the fucking cover on the pond before I went inside." His expression was strained, taut with the effort of not breaking down, and I placed my hand on top of his sympathetically.

"Everything we had turned to nothing. We tried, but she was bitter, and so was I. In time, we barely spoke, let alone spent any time together. She made it clear that she held me responsible for everything. Not that I didn't play my own part in the breakdown of things between us. I couldn't face myself, let alone her, and I spent as much time out as I could trying to drink it away. A few months later, she left to take a job in Europe. We haven't talked since."

As he continued speaking, his voice took on a harsh, bitter tone. "I knew things hadn't been good, but I'd never stopped hoping that something would change - that she'd forgive me. But I suppose if I can never forgive myself, why would I think that Alice could forgive me? I don't blame her for leaving. When Ava died, it killed everything that we were."

"Oh, Jasper," I said, the sentence sticking on my throat because of how much I'd been affected by what he'd said. Every word had filled me with the utmost pity for him. Jasper had lost his whole family all down to human error. I wanted to tell him it wasn't all his fault, that he was too hard on himself, that I knew how much he was hurting. But I said nothing. I'd lost Edward, but his death paled into insignificance in the wake of what Jasper had revealed.

All the different facets of Jasper were starting to make sense. I felt wretched for originally judging him to be a shallow, carefree guy. Here was a man who'd compartmentalised his emotions because the alternative was to let himself feel the worst pain he could imagine - the loss of his daughter. The way he'd acted at first was the behaviour of someone who indulged in empty, hedonistic pleasures in a bid to forget. Of course, I knew only too well that eventually, grief has a way of catching up with you. When I'd tried to ignore memories of Edward's death, they'd only seeped through the cracks and manifested themselves as nightmares. Jasper had once told me he didn't sleep well. Perhaps, like me, his subconscious tortured him with the dark, buried thoughts only the night could unleash.

"I'm not the only one who still blames himself, though, am I?" he said eventually, and his blue eyes were piercing, steely as they regarded me.

"No," I admitted quietly. He reached for the hem of my t-shirt and slid it up my thigh to reveal the traces of the marks I'd made in my skin. My breath caught as his fingertips pressed to each ugly scar, but there was no judgement in his eyes.

"I'll never forgive myself for Edward's death," I continued, hardly believing that I was revealing something that was so private for me. "I always feel that I should have noticed something that morning I left him to go to work. But there was nothing. He seemed perfectly content - far better than he'd been in recent weeks."

"I'm so sorry," Jasper whispered, his expression pained. "I know you miss him. Not a day goes by where I don't think of Ava. But will you really _never _forgive yourself?"

"Will you?" I countered, my tone sharper than I had intended. He remained silent, and I was afraid I'd made things worse, but then he sighed, his lips forming a sad smile that told me the answer to that question. Seconds later, his arms were wrapped around me and I was hugging him back, just as desperate for the physical closeness in that moment as he was.

"I don't know. But I'm glad I told you," he said into my neck, his words muffled, and I was touched. Pulling back to kiss his cheek, I offered my silent acceptance of what he'd told me. And I hoped he knew I didn't judge him for a second. For the first time, I felt as if we truly understood one another. He'd trusted me enough to be vulnerable with me, and I knew it was a massive step for him to tell me.

Glancing down at my exposed thighs, I tugged the t-shirt back over them, still a little ashamed about my scars being on display. His hand closed over mine, preventing my movements, and he shook his head.

"It looks...ugly," I whispered, my voice weak. "And I hate myself for doing it." A tear spilled from my eye but he kissed it away seconds later, warm lips soothing my tense skin.

"You'll never be anything but beautiful to me," he told me sincerely before he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't earth-shattering and lustful and frenzied like earlier; it was soft, careful and so achingly sweet that my eyes were suddenly full of tears. Curling up against the terrycloth of his robe, I buried my face in his chest, not wanting him to see but knowing that he could read my reaction. Jasper didn't say a thing – he just silently pulled me onto his lap. He held me tighter than anybody had held me in a long time; his entire body wrapped round me and our heads resting on each other's shoulders. I don't know how long we sat like that for, but in his arms, I finally felt safe.

Some time later, we extricated ourselves from the embrace and he gently set me on my feet.

"Um, there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet. You can have it if you like," Jasper offered, his tone casual but the sentence anything but. Despite their mundane subject, the words were loaded with intimacy, and I was touched. I leaned over and kissed his cheek, telling him more with that simple gesture than words ever could.

"Thank you." Making my way into the adjacent bathroom, I locked the door. After tidying myself up a bit and brushing my teeth, I slumped down upon the edge of the bath, in need of some peace and quiet in which to collect my thoughts. Drawing my knees up to my chest, I hugged them tightly, pulling the t-shirt down over them in a childish, comforting fashion. My exhausted brain could hardly process everything Jasper and I had just shared, but it didn't stop me trying to make sense of it.

Thoughts of scorching heat, sweat-damp skin and tangled bodies swirled inside my head, sparking a muted wave of desire despite the fact he'd well and truly worn me out. I became aware of a growing burn between my thighs and shifted, registering the sudden stinging feeling. It didn't surprise me that I was a little sore, given how rough we were – but it had been exactly what we both needed. Stretching my arms, I registered the dull stiffness in my limbs that only comes from that delicious, intense kind of sex that leaves you virtually boneless. However, I knew what had happened between us was about so much more than mere sexual compatibility. The feelings that had blossomed between us in recent weeks had transformed into an achingly intense connection when he'd taken me to bed. Everything we'd discussed afterwards couldn't change that, even if it had shocked me to the core. He'd bared his soul to me, and I knew for him, that was a huge step. It was clear that Jasper had a lot of problems, a darkness that I'd only skimmed the surface of, but that didn't matter. I'd fallen for him, and I cared about him so much that to see him in such pain wrenched my heart. At least I understood, though, because of Edward, and in turn, Jasper knew just how it felt for me sometimes.

When he'd asked me if I'd ever forgive myself, the question had thrown me and I'd deflected instead of answering it. To even think of that terrified me, because I knew that I blamed myself. Next time I saw Kate I'd have to talk to her about that – I'd progressed to discussing Edward, but not the implications of what happened. She was patient with me, but at the same time, I knew it was her job to make me think about the hard stuff, so I knew I wouldn't be getting away with avoiding it for too long. I slid my legs down to the floor and stood, unlocking the door with a deep breath.

"I think my t-shirt suits you," he said approvingly when I came back into the bedroom to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, his face calm and open once more. "I'll be right back." I saw he'd changed the sheets and arranged the comforter neatly while I'd been gone, and bit back a smirk. The knowledge that Jasper was a clean-freak amused me, but it wasn't surprising, given the fanatically neat state of the rest of his apartment. I had to admit, it scared me a little. I wasn't messy, but my room tended to exist in a state of organised chaos, piles of clutter stacked everywhere and on top of everything. Sinking down against the pillows, I idly looked out the window, staring at the clouds rapidly covering the moon as I waited for him to return.

Soon, he was back, and I got up, pulling the covers back as he went over and tugged the curtains closed. Not for the first time, I felt nervous – more nervous than I'd been even before we'd had sex. This wasn't just sleeping together, this was _sleeping together_.

_How the hell do we do this?_ I wondered, knowing that whatever happened, falling asleep together would be the thing that cemented the fact that our relationship was so much more than sex. I should have known that he'd make it easy. He took my hand and pulled me into bed beside him before giving me a knee-weakening kiss that tasted like mint and passion.

"Good night," I said quietly into the gloom, settling down in the sheets, but he wound his arm around my waist and insistently dragged me closer.

"Not so fast," he said into my ear, reaching down to grasp the hem of my t-shirt. "I want to feel your soft skin on mine." Laughing, I stretched up my arms to let him yank the t-shirt over my head and he hugged me to him tightly.

"Night, Bella," he whispered, pressing soft kisses to my eyelids that were already closing. The warmth of his bare skin on mine felt unbelievable as we lay down together, his head resting in the hollow of my neck while his arm wrapped round me beneath the comforter. I hadn't been held by someone like this in so long, but it didn't feel strange – it was perfect.

"Night," I mumbled in reply before I succumbed to exhaustion. Drifting off to sleep in Jasper's arms, I could sense something had changed irrevocably. He already knew me, but for the first time, I felt as if I knew _him._

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_**It would be great to know your reaction to this chapter - poor, poor Jasper, but Bella at least understood him and he let someone comfort him for a change which is a big thing for his character. Thanks for reading xxx.  
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**_Extra A/N:_ I just wanted to say thanks to whoever voted and helped ICF win an Avant Garde Award for Best Non-Canon Pairing. I was so surprised and pleased to win!**

**Also, as I'm sure you're all aware right now, there are devastating floods going on around the world. As was done for Haiti and various other fundraisers, authors are signing up to write oneshots/outtakes/original pieces for a compilation to benefit the victims of the Queensland flooding in Australia. To get access to the compilation, donate a minimum of just $5 and you'll get a ton of great fic by various authors. I'm donating a special ICF Alice/Jasper outtake myself. To learn more about donating or to sign up as an author, visit:**

**http:/ fandomsfightthefloods . blogspot . com / (remove spaces)  
**


	20. Dawn

**I'm updating faster right now as I wrote a bunch of chapters ahead a while back - it just took me a little while to catch up to this point. I apologise profusely for not having got round to all my review replies yet, but I love what you're all saying and I'm getting to them ASAP, I promise.**

**I started a new job last week so it's just been non-stop, but I'm doing well so far, if busy.  
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**** Huge thanks to my beta tiffanyanne3 for dealing with my comma abuse and fixing my errors. I learn more from her every day. And to SydneyTwiMum, whose insightful comments give me a preview as to what readers will think. ****

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_**Song: Brand New Day - Joshua Radin**_

**Chapter 20: Dawn**

**JPOV**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I buried my head in the pillow, attempting to ignore the irritating noise. There it was again._ Beep._ The shrill sound penetrated my sleep-fogged mind until I noticed my alarm clock was going off on the bedside table. The digital lettering glowed bright green, showing on the display that it had only just turned seven-thirty.

_Ugh. On a Saturday?_ I must have forgotten to turn it off the day before. With great effort, I reached over and flicked the _off_ switch, sighing as quiet filled the darkened room once more. I stayed at the edge of the bed for a moment, one arm hanging down as I didn't have the energy to move back just yet. There was a sudden rustling in my sheets, and I heard a woman's voice mutter something unintelligible. I turned over, and my eyes fell upon Bella next to me. _Of course_. She was curled up by the spot where I'd just been, her dark hair fanned out against the pillow.

"Mmmm," she murmured, nuzzling close to me, and I pulled her into the crook of my arm, craving the contact so desperately after everything we'd said last night. Everything I'd told her. The memories of last night came flooding back: both the pleasure and the pain. I hoped Bella would never stop surprising me. Even after I'd revealed to her the darkest secret of my existence, she hadn't run away screaming. She'd been sympathetic, but not pitying - intuitive enough to sense that I didn't need pity. I pressed my face into the pillow where her head had just been, inhaling the soothing scent of vanilla and something else. I loved that smell, and it created a haze of contentment in my brain much like Bella herself did.

A knot twisted in my stomach as I recalled everything I'd told her - things I hadn't even allowed myself to think of for so long. I knew I'd atone for the death of my little girl for the rest of my life, but hopefully, Bella might just help me to bear it better. At that stage, I couldn't say where we were headed. All I knew was that I felt so complete with her and the inexplicable connection we shared. I heard a whimper against my chest and she stirred, blearily opening one eye.

"What time is it?" Her voice was hoarse.

"Just after seven-thirty." She groaned, burrowing her head into the pillow, and I stroked her hair, smiling at her feeble attempt to be awake.

"You've never seen me in the morning. I don't function without coffee," she replied, her eyes still firmly closed.

"Why don't we just go back to sleep for a little while?"

"Mmm." She barely raised her head, and I chuckled at all the sleepy, incoherent noises she was making. "That sounds good."

I snuggled up to her and closed my eyes, letting sleep take me once more.

...

It was just after ten when we awoke again, and I felt - if not refreshed - a lot better than I had the previous night throughout our long talk.

"Morning again," I said with a smile, pressing my lips to her hair briefly.

"Ugh, morning" she muttered, stretching against me. "Okay, I really am awake now. Sort of."

"How about some breakfast?" I was bone tired, but I certainly didn't have a problem with dragging my ass out of bed to make a beautiful girl breakfast.

She smiled vacantly, her lids half-opening before they shut again. "You're too good to me."

"It would be my pleasure, darlin'," I said, the words slipping off my tongue teasingly. She laughed quietly, blinking as she opened her eyes fully for the first time that morning. "Just rest and I'll call you when it's ready so you can come through to the kitchen."

"Please tell me it's not like _Mildred Pierce_ and you'll have a whole wardrobe of different sized robes that all belong to your 'sisters'."

"I'm not that smooth, trust me. You can wear mine, I don't have another. It's on the back of the door."

She sat up, propping herself up on her elbows. "But what will you wear?" Her expression was coquettish, yet innocent at the same time, and I laughed. "As much as I love the idea of you making me breakfast naked, I can see the potential hazards involved."

I cocked one eyebrow. "I think pyjama pants will suffice." On impulse, I leant over and kissed the soft part where her neck met her shoulders, breathing in the sweet vanilla scent that clung to her skin. Bella sighed happily and slumped back onto the sheets, curling up in the comforter. It didn't entirely cover her shapely legs, and I stood there for a second, admiring the view of the half-asleep woman in my bed. The fullness of her slightly parted lips, her mussed curtain of long dark hair, her small fingers curled into half-fists around my comforter. The sight of her in my bed was just so delectable that I immediately entertained ideas of waking her up for some long, lazy lovemaking. Although that could certainly wait until I'd made her breakfast. It wouldn't exactly be fair to try and talk an exhausted girl into sex first thing in the morning without at least some coffee.

Grabbing a pair of checked pyjama pants from the drawer, I shoved them on and then quietly left the room. I yawned, rumpling my hair with one hand as I made a quick trip to the bathroom and then padded out into the corridor to the kitchen. The first thing I did was put a pot of coffee on to brew and lit a cigarette, hoping it would go some way to waking me up. Then I opened the fridge, thanking my lucky stars that I'd thought to do food shopping yesterday morning. Thinking she must be hungry after the previous night's activities, I got the ingredients out to make bacon, eggs and toast. My sleep-deprived body processed the various tasks slowly but methodically, while my mind was free to wander. I really was in love with Bella; I couldn't deny it any longer. Her calm, measured acceptance of even the worst aspects of my past had made me fall in love with her all the more. I was in so deep now I knew that this had to be something real. I didn't know if I could do it right, or if I could even remember how to do this, to be with someone. But with her, it felt as natural as every breath that left my body.

"Breakfast's up!" I called down the hallway before I turned back to dishing up the food. A minute or two later, Bella came in, wearing my huge robe that completely swamped her, cigarette in hand. And yet I thought right then that I'd be happy if she never wore anything else. She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand as she came over to the seat I'd pulled out for her at the table.

"I must look a fright," she muttered, trying to smooth down her tangled mane of hair with her fingers. I almost laughed at her trying to make herself look better. To me, she was perfect.

"Far from it, I assure you. You're perfect." She flushed with a shy smile, and I felt as though my heart would melt. After spending so long living an emotionally stunted lifestyle, I thought saying such things would be hard, but with her, it was so much easier than I'd ever imagined it could be. Because I really meant every word. Bella wasn't just beautiful - she was fascinating, smart and I could talk to her about anything. It was qualities such as those that made me think, even at such an early stage, that she was all I wanted. She stubbed out her cigarette as I brought the plates over.

"That looks great, Jasper. Thanks."

I poured her some coffee, watching with amusement as she gulped it down like it was the precious ambrosia of the Gods. Taking a sip of my own beverage, I savoured the warmth of it as I cradled it in my hands contentedly. For a couple of minutes we just ate and drank silently, taking the chance to get sustenance into our bodies. Last night had been both physically and emotionally draining, and we were worn out even after our slumber.

"These are good eggs," she said suddenly, a forkful of them halfway to her mouth.

"Thanks." I smiled. It felt so strange to be sitting at my kitchen table eating breakfast with someone. When I was alone I normally just ate breakfast standing up at the countertop, but for whatever reason, there had always been two chairs since I got the place. We chatted pleasantly as we finished the food and coffee, neither of us alluding to the more serious aspects of the previous night. She seemed kind of shy, which I found funny considering the more vixen-like side of her herself she'd displayed the night before. I took the finished plates away, dumping them in the sink before I came back to her. I felt significantly more awake now, and she definitely seemed to be, her eyes bright and alert as she gazed up at me beneath her thick lashes.

I got up from my chair and came round to where she sat. "Morning, by the way," I murmured, burying my face in her neck to trail my jaw over it. She shuddered pleasantly, and I nipped at the shell of her ear with my teeth. Christ, she was sexy. Even the smallest moan from her was making my pyjama pants feel uncomfortably tight already. All at once, Bella spun round on the chair and took my chin in her hands, pulling my face towards hers for a kiss. I probably didn't taste great, like bacon and coffee and cigarettes and morning, but then again, she had the same flavours in her mouth so it wouldn't matter. Her lips molded to mine with the gentlest pressure, and I let out a shallow, stilted breath against her mouth. She sucked my bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it with a wet sound, and I struggled to not throw her down on the kitchen floor right there and then. Her face was slightly flushed when we broke apart, her breathing audibly uneven in the silence of the kitchen.

"What you told me last night," she suddenly began, "I know we talked about it, but I just wanted to say that I remember." She squeezed my hand, and I winced, uncomfortable that she was referring to Ava's death, even if I knew she knew. "We don't have to talk about it," she added, as if she somehow knew what I was thinking. "As long as you know I don't think less of you."

_No, I just think less of myself. _"Thank you," I told her genuinely, deciding it wasn't the best time to share that terribly negative thought with her.

Wanting to move away from that particular subject, I allowed my fingers to seek out the tie of her robe and deftly pulled it apart, sliding my hands under the terrycloth to find the soft skin beneath. I trailed my fingers over her breasts, cupping them in my hands. God, Bella had wonderful breasts - soft, supple, amazing. I could probably touch them all day, although I doubted that she'd let me, and I'd definitely be some kind of pervert if I did that.

Her hands drew up between our bodies to traverse my own chest, her fingers running over every tiny scar that I didn't even mind her knowing about. The feel of her hands on my skin was indescribable, and when they dipped lower, her fingers sinking into my waistband, I groaned. However, every muscle in my body felt tired out, and I longed to soothe them with hot water. I could certainly have some company, though. The opportunity to have Bella wet and naked in my shower was just too good to pass up.

"Do you want to take a shower?" I murmured into her neck in a low voice, feeling her sigh as my warm lips brushed over the sensitive skin.

"Um, sure," she muttered distractedly, her eyes half-closed. "I think I could use one." I took her hand and led her to my bathroom. I left her for a second to get her another towel out of the linen closet, and then came back and turned the shower on.

"After you," I said, gesturing for her to step in.

"Is that just so you can stare at my ass?" She frowned before her face creased into a mocking smile.

"It's not as if I didn't have ample opportunity last night. Although it is _very_ nice." I felt like I had to emphasise just how much I adored Bella's womanly curves, and she flushed with pleasure at the compliment. She took the edges of the now undone robe and pushed it off her shoulders, letting the fabric pool at her feet. I let out a sharp intake of breath as she revealed her naked body in the pale light of the bathroom. Every inch of her was more magnificent than the last, slim yet rounded in the most attractive way. I remembered tasting every inch of her body last night, and breathed out slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. My cock twitched against the fabric, and I knew she could definitely see the outline of my hard-on through the pyjama pants. I didn't particularly mind though, and hopefully she liked the fact that I desired her that much.

She stepped under the spray, and I pulled off my only item of clothing and followed her into the shower stall, letting the water soak us both. I reached over to grab the shampoo from the wire rack at the side, laughing as my erection inadvertently brushed against her side. "Let me wash your hair," I told her.

She giggled. "I feel like we're in _Out Of Africa_ or something."

"Come on, let me."

I poured some shampoo onto my hands and rubbed them together before working it into her hair from root to tip. There was something romantic about washing your lover's hair, and it was something I'd never done with any girls I brought back to the apartment. But I was different with Bella, and I didn't want her to be treated the same. She deserved so much more, and I'd give her everything that I could. I shifted closer to her, and her breathing caught for a second.

"What's that sticking into my back?" she teased, shifting that perfect little ass of hers so it rubbed against my hardness. Bella was something of a seductress - I'd just had to uncover it. I hoped I'd be seeing a lot more of that side to her.

"Are you really surprised? Have you got any idea how fucking sexy you look right now, in my shower?"

She pivoted on her toes to face me and frowned. "What, with my hair all matted with shampoo?" She stepped under the spray and squeezed her eyes shut as the water cascaded over her, washing away the soap. I took the opportunity to wind my arms round her and pull her close to me so my cock was pressing against her. She squealed but kept her eyes closed as the rest of the shampoo washed down her face in streams, not wanting to get it in her eyes.

"If you won't believe me when I tell you, I'm sure I can show you," I growled in her ear. I carefully stepped round her, conscious of the small space we were inhabiting, until I was behind her, now under the shower spray. Quickly, I washed my own hair, rinsing the suds away beneath the pouring water. Bella waited, but all the time she was slowly rubbing that taut little ass of hers against me, almost imperceptibly, but she knew what she was doing alright. She shivered, so I turned up the temperature so that we were now both standing beneath distinctly hot water. I felt every inch of my body relaxing, and judging by her contented sigh as she leaned back into me, she did too.

"That feels so nice," she sighed. "I think I'm a bit sore all over, really, after...um, all the fucking we did last night." Her cheeks turned a delicate hue of pink that had little to do with the hot water, and I laughed.

I'd probably never get used to her saying the word _fucking_. The way it rolled off her tongue made it sound like a word she wasn't used to saying, and I found that incredibly hot. Taking the soap from the dish to the left of me, I rubbed it between my hands and then lathered it up, first soaping myself before I moved to hers.

Bella laughed, the sound echoing against the tiles. "You know, I am capable of washing myself." She tried to turn round to face me again, but my hand darted out to hold her hip fast and prevent her from doing so.

"I know. But I want to do it," I said with a grin, and she acquiesced, leaning back into my body. I ran my soapy hands over her back before moving them round to her front, massaging her breasts as the nipples stiffened to sharp peaks beneath my touch.

"Oh," she moaned, her hands moving behind her to grip my buttocks. That, coupled with the movements of her ass against my already ridiculously hard dick, nearly made me lose it. My gaze dropped to her hips, and I noticed purple marks where bruises were already beginning to form. The small mark where I'd sucked at her hip was still there, but otherwise I felt bad for hurting her. I'd been far too rough, but she'd been so willing, always wanting me to go deeper, hold her tighter, fuck her harder.

"God, Bella, I..." I groaned into her damp hair, rapidly losing my will to be careful and gentle with her today. "I'm sorry if I hurt you last night."

"You didn't," she breathed. "And you know, I haven't felt that good in...I don't know when."

The fingers of one hand were wound round her waist, while the other was inching downwards, following the path that the water made down her body. I seized one of her hands that was at her side and placed it on her waist. The steam from the heated water swirled around us, the air humid and thick with the water that poured over our slick bodies. Closing my hand over hers, I slid it lower, guiding it until our interlaced fingers dipped below her navel.

"Your skin's so soft," I couldn't resist telling her.

"Uh, thank you," she said faintly, her breathing erratic. I was on the verge of letting my hand slip lower, but then realised it wasn't what I wanted that day. Not then, anyway. I was really tempted to fuck her in my shower, but besides the space issue, I didn't want it to be like last night - raw and intense and powerful.

I wanted to erase every trace of that night where I'd avoided intimacy. And that meant revisiting the living room with her. There were definitely things I wanted to do at some point, like bend her over my coffee table as I fucked her from behind, her breasts pressed against the glass as I buried my face in her hair. But not that day. She was probably a bit sore, and I wanted to cherish her, to be gentle and sweet. The idea of laying her out on my thick rug and worshipping every inch of her body suddenly seemed very attractive indeed.

"Actually, this shower stall is pretty small," I remarked, unlacing my fingers from hers, and she nodded in agreement. "Shall we take this to a more appropriate place?"

"I think we're both probably clean enough. In a manner of speaking," she told me in amusement, and I laughed as I pulled the shower door open and she followed me out. Grabbing towels from the rack, we dried off a little, but I didn't want to wait any longer.

Letting my towel drop to the floor, I swept her up into my arms, still wrapped in her own towel.

She clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled. "Where are we going?"

"Living room."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I hoped it wasn't bringing back bad memories for her. As we entered the room, I set her down on the couch and kissed her softly in an attempt to dispel any notion she might have of me treating her in that way ever again.

"Now I know it seems cold," I said, "but wait." I grabbed the remote control for the electric fire from a shelf, and switched it on. In no time at all, it crackled to life, filling the room with light and warmth. "I never really use this fire." I grinned sheepishly. "It's not much fun on your own, I guess."

"My, my, Jasper. Aren't you the closet romantic?" Bella teased, a radiant smile lighting up her face that tugged at my emotions from deep inside. She was beautiful and I was so lucky to have her here on my couch, distractedly rubbing at her damp hair with the towel.

"Don't tell anyone," I replied, sticking my tongue out playfully. "Now, where were we?" I slid onto the couch beside her, and pulled her into my lap.

Wriggling in my lap, she rested her legs either side of me so she was effectively straddling me. "Well..." she began in a low, husky voice that near drove me wild. Our lips founded one another and melded into a soft, sweet kiss, her mouth sucking at my bottom lip. I moved my lips to her chin and then along her jaw, right up to her cheeks and eyelids in feather-light kisses.

She moaned, and then our lips met in urgency, her arms winding round my neck as I yielded to the pressure of her mouth on mine. Our tongues joined, and I groaned into the heat and moisture of her mouth. I felt my erection instantly return, and was sure she could feel it pressing into her stomach. Bella sighed before pulling back slightly, her face already slightly flushed. Whether it was from the warmth of the room or my kisses, I couldn't tell, but it still looked great on her pale skin. Her towel was still firmly wrapped round her body, and that just wouldn't do. I gently lifted her off me and got up, carefully moving the coffee table that lay on top of the rug to the side. Her eyes lit up as she realised my plan, and she did not resist when I took her hand and motioned for her to join me on the rug. I gently pushed her back into the soft pile and hooked my fingers into the top of the towel where it was tucked in. The heat from the fire behind me warmed our bodies, and I hoped she wouldn't be too cold, as I was planning on keeping her here for a while.

With one quick movement, I unfolded the towel and she shifted her hips so I could pull it out from under her and discard it. I sighed happily, letting my eyes drink in every inch of her. Leaning over her, I kissed her forehead, smoothing her damp hair out of her eyes with my fingers. Her eyes met mine, and something wordless and yet so loving passed between us. On the rug in front of my fire, I was going to show her how grateful I was for everything she'd unselfishly given to me - most of all, her heart. "You are so beautiful," I whispered throatily, pressing a kiss to one corner of her lips, then the other.

"So are you. You make me _feel_ beautiful," she said quietly. A single tear glistened on one her lashes. Gently, I wiped it away with the pad of my thumb. I hoped that it was a tear of happiness, because at that moment, I felt like my heart would burst with the feelings she was drawing out of me from deep within.

I kissed her eyelids, combing my fingers through her damp hair. "Shh, it's okay," I told her, my hands moving to rest on her hips, gently tracing the bruises. I still felt bad for hurting her, for letting my animal instincts take over and being careless with her small, fragile frame. As fantastic as last night's lovemaking had been, a culmination of all the sexual tension of the past few weeks, I wanted to show her it could be more than rough and frenzied with me. I wanted to show her that I could be good to her, too. "Just let me make love to you," I whispered, leaning over to cover her lips with mine.

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**It's pretty different from the last chapter, but they had enough of a hard time the night before. It isn't as if everything's suddenly okay for both of them, but it's perfectly natural to want to just enjoy being together, despite the heavy stuff they're both dealing with.**

**In case anyone didn't get the _Mildred Pierce_ reference, it's a brilliant film from the 40s with Joan Crawford that's one of my all-time favourites. There's this scene where this sleazy guy has tons of swimsuits all in different sizes just for her - it cracks me up every time. Definitely a must-watch.  
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**Reviews give me happeh-squee. Thanks for reading! xxx**


	21. Soothe

**I know, I know, this took forever to come but I'm just literally swamped at the minute. Being so busy is seriously cutting into my fandom time, but I always read and cherish each and every one of your lovely reviews. Huge love to all those that read, rec, review, alert and nominate my stuff. Anyway - I hope you like this chapter.**

**** Thanks to tiffanyanne3 for her skilful beta work on this chapter, and to SydneyTwiMum, whose thoughts I love to read. ****

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**_Song: Desire - Ryan Adams_**

**Chapter 21: Soothe  
**

**BPOV**

I had no idea what had just happened. Pathetically, I'd actually teared up in front of Jasper. But I was just so touched by his behaviour around me - it was like he felt he could show me a side of himself that nobody else saw. I'd seen hints of it before the previous night, but all the layers of him had peeled back and I finally saw the man underneath. He could be wicked and seductive, but also so tender and kind. I looked over at him, leaning on his elbow beside me on the rug, his lean, toned body stretched out languorously, and my breath caught. He was so ridiculously beautiful that I almost wanted to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn't dreaming.

Jasper's eyes flickered over my skin, his gaze eliciting a burning heat that flashed across my whole body. And I was sure it had little to do with the fire that was fanning its warmth across both of us. His features twisted in a frown and I froze, worried that there was something wrong, but then he smiled. He leaned in closer, so that his soft words caressed my ear. "Just a sec." He got up and walked over to the window, parting the curtains so that the morning light streamed in through the windows. "I wanted to see all of you properly," he explained with a devastating smile that made me shiver.

He knelt down and his fingers tangled in my wet curls as one hand curled round to rest on the flat of my back, gently supporting me into a sitting position. I wrapped one arm round his neck, pulling him nearer as my free hand traced the muscles of his stomach and chest. His lips were soft and yet so urgent, moving with mine in a way that felt so natural. My heart pounded, and as I laid my fingers out flat over the place where his own heart was, I felt his heart beat for me, matching the erratic rhythm of my own pulse second by second. He laid his hand over mine and clasped it before moving forward to capture my lips with his once more. I sighed against the delicious warmth of his mouth, tasting love and need and so much more that I couldn't even explain.

"Checking I'm still alive?" he murmured in between kisses, and I laughed, the sound reverberating against his lips.

"Something like that," I murmured, hoping that he knew how alive I was feeling right then.

"With you, I couldn't be anything but," he whispered, wrapping his hand round the back of my neck to support it as he gently laid me back down on the plush fabric beneath us. "Lie back." His voice was low, gravelly, and I shivered at the way this man's words made me feel. Even such simple words sounded like the most erotic thing I'd ever heard when they came from his lips. I could feel a growing dampness between my thighs before he'd even touched me, and I shifted, somehow trying to relieve the pressure.

His warm fingers caressed the contours of my body, my collarbone down to the valley in between my breasts, and then lower to my hips. I moaned, my hands twining round the fibres of the fluffy rug as he dipped his head to lay an open-mouthed kiss on my belly. It felt as if every nerve in my body was stretched tighter than piano wire, humming with a near-unbearable tension. His mouth then moved to my chest, which he lavished with kisses, circling each of my nipples with his tongue in turn. I shuddered, my head involuntarily snapping to the side. He pushed back a wave of hair that had fallen into my eye, smiling down at me, but I could only gasp in response. I bit the flesh of my lip, mute from wanting him to continue so badly.

His hands made a path up the inside of my thighs, and they automatically loosened under the gentle pressure of his palms. I allowed him to part my legs, drawing my knees up until my feet rested flat on the rug. The fingers of one hand travelled over my knee, and then downwards, till it was just inches from my heated flesh. Jasper lifted his head, and his eyes locked on mine in a lustful, hungry gaze. The next second, his fingers slid between my folds, making a slow pass over my clit. I jerked into his touch, unable to suppress an unabashedly loud moan that echoed off the walls.

Withdrawing his hand, he kissed from one hipbone to the other, his tongue leaving a heated trail of moisture across my skin. He even kissed each thigh, his warm mouth skimming over the well-healed scars. I was touched that he was acknowledging them as a part of me, not with disdain or disgust. His palms slid up my inner thighs, pushing them even wider apart if that was possible. I almost wanted to blush, but had no time to even think of it when he pressed a kiss just above where I needed him. I trembled, every muscle tensing as he stayed there for a moment, breathing out over me. I made a strangled sound in my throat, protesting at his lack of action, and he laughed softly against me. It created the most delicious sensation, only surpassed by the ones that fired through my body when he brought his mouth lower.

My eyes squeezed shut, my head falling back, and yet again my nails tried to find purchase on the soft material of the rug. His mouth worked at me slowly yet skillfully, enough to make me whimper uncontrollably, but not enough to tip me over the edge. My pleasure built gradually, every lick and suck at the sensitive skin making me cry out. My breaths came shallow and stilted, and I held them, only exhaling when I had to. My eyes were shut so tightly I saw only shapes in the blackness as I teetered on the precipice, torn between being desperate for release and not wanting it to end.

Jasper paused, and my eyelids fluttered open, my head raising as I wondered why he'd stopped. His hand gently prised mine from the rug, his fingers lacing into mine. I took in the sight of his tousled, dark waves, his lips, warm and wet, pressed against my inner thigh, and I sighed.

"You're so tense. Let go," he whispered against me as his scorching gaze met mine, and I moaned as his mouth returned to me. I shuddered, finally releasing the breath I'd been holding, and my hips jerked as the burning heat flared across my body. I cried out his name in a broken scream as my muscles shook, every sensation overtaking me while my grip tightened on his hand. My thighs tried to close, but he held them open, coaxing me down from my high with light kisses as I continued to tremble.

I laughed shakily, my heartbeat thundering in my ears as I tried in vain to catch my breath. "Jesus Christ. Are you trying to kill me?" I muttered when I could finally speak. He grinned up at me.

"Nope. Just relax you."

"Mission accomplished." My head flopped back on to the rug as my body went limp.

I loosened my hold on his fingers, and he kissed his way back up my body. Jasper lay down beside me, his limbs wrapping round me from behind as he pulled my body closer into his, rolling me to the side. His lips pressed to my neck tenderly, and I smiled to myself as his arms encircled me, stroking my skin.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice suddenly serious. "I'm not going anywhere, you know. I can tell you kind of think I've been hit on the head with a brick and completely lost my mind, but I assure you I haven't. This is who I am, as much as anything else. I'm not perfect, but with you, I can be myself." I realised a part of me was still afraid, but I didn't have to let it dictate my behaviour. Jasper was a good man, who cared about me, and well, perhaps his feelings ran even deeper than that. It was too early for either of us to vocalise the intense emotions we felt for one another, but that didn't matter. I twisted round to look at him, and kissed his cheek.

We both fell silent for a few moments, just lying in each other's arms and listening to the sound of the fire behind us. "Don't ever hold back with me," he suddenly murmured, burying his face in my hair. I could feel his erection nudging against me, and I let out a quiet moan, my body tingling all over at once. I wanted him, and it was in a way I wasn't sure I'd ever experienced before, a way I wasn't sure I'd ever get enough of. He was probably dying to throw me down and fuck me, but was sweetly giving me some recovery time before he did so. I was touched by that. Every moment, he thought about me so much, and I wanted to give him something too.

I turned round so I was facing him, and pushed him gently so his back was flat against the material. His hands closed around my waist, pulling me on top of him, and I bent my knees, hooking them on either side of his legs. His fingers traversed my body, one hand tracing circles on my hips as the other crept up my spine, following its path. The flat of his hand pulled me forward to capture my lips in a delicate kiss. His mouth was careful, almost reverent on mine as his hand wound into my hair, stroking the still-damp tendrils. I could feel him hard between our bodies as my lips moved with his, and shifted against him. He groaned as my slick centre made contact with him, and I slid myself up and down, balancing one hand on his chest as he muttered something unintelligible into my mouth.

My body straightened, and I placed one hand on his shoulder while the other reached down to take him in my hand. I guided him into me, slowly bearing down until the whole length of him was inside me. I squeezed my eyes shut, wincing slightly as I finally felt the effects of last night's prolonged lovemaking. He groaned audibly, but frowned when he saw my initial reaction.  
"Sorry," he rasped, his voice etched with concern. "I know I was rough on you last night."

"It's okay," I breathed, my eyes opening. "I just need a minute." I stayed there for a moment, letting the slight sting subside as I adjusted to the width of him. Cautiously, I moved, lifting myself up while my other hand rested on his chest. As I dropped myself back over, I moaned as he sunk back into me. Pain quickly gave way to pleasure as our hips met, every movement tinged with intense emotion.

His expression was strained, and I could tell he was resisting the urge to slam me down upon him. I felt his fingers trail over my skin, making a path up to my breasts. He caressed them, his palms teasing the hardened buds as I slowly began to move over him, increasing the pace. Heat tightened in my belly, rising up within my body as I felt him stroke my sensitive spot with every movement I made. I bit my lip, my breathing erratic as his hands moved to enclose my hips, pushing me down upon him as I raised myself up. I leaned back, one hand resting on his arm, and he dragged his fingers down my torso, starting at my neck to make a burning trail down to where our bodies met.

His thumb brushed my clit, and I jolted.

"Fuck," he whispered, "have you any idea how sexy you look right now?" His gaze roved my body, every inch of skin tingling as his eyes ran over it. All at once, his hand rested on my back, bowing my body forward so I was leaning over him. I shifted, circling my hips as I ground them into his, increasingly incoherent sounds escaping me. Jasper groaned in my ear, his fingers sweeping my hair out of my eyes as he pulled me in closer. His lips met mine in a soft, affectionate kiss, and I sighed into his mouth. I tangled my fingers into his dark hair, bringing him even nearer to me as he rocked inside me.

"You feel so..." I muttered, unable to express in words how intimate and wonderful it felt to be with him like that. His arms wrapped around me, holding him to me as we moved together. My head dipped, resting in the hollow of his neck, and he sighed a guttural moan against my hair. The warmth from the fire blew across our bodies, increasing the desire we felt for one another. His hips tipped upwards, the angle hitting that indescribably pleasurable spot within me, and a low cry of his name fell from my lips.

His eyes met mine in a look of such open, raw desire for me, and I let out a quiet moan. "Bella, I..." he whispered throatily, his words trailing off before he could finish his sentence. His palm pressed into my lower back, holding me to him as my hands clasped his shoulders for leverage. I dropped myself over him at an increasing speed, and he pushed himself upwards into me harder. My muscles fluttered around him, and he grunted into my ear. My eyes squeezed shut as I felt the familiar coiling knots pulling tight inside me, ready to unwind any second. I ground myself into him, my hips slamming into his harder than ever as the base of him grazed my oversensitive nub.

"Nearly," I gasped, one of my hands fisting in his hair as I closed my eyes, feeling myself teeter on the brink. His tongue traced a shape on my throat, and I felt the tension burst, the knots unravelling inside me as I found my release. Jasper kissed me tenderly as I came, his lips gentle on mine as I shook over him. He whispered to me that I was beautiful while I shuddered, my vision blurring as my thighs clamped round his body. Finally, my head fell to his neck as the sensations subsided. Seconds later, he groaned through his own climax, his body shaking against me as he held me to him tightly, his upward thrusts gradually slowing. I stroked his face, trailing my fingers over his jaw line as our breathing became even again. He frowned, and I belatedly realised there were tears in my eyes. His thumb swept the moisture away, and then his lips found mine again in a brief but sweet kiss.

That time, I wasn't ashamed of my tears. My self-consciousness had fallen away, leaving only a sense of how right it felt to be with him like that. I stayed there for a moment, not moving as he kissed my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, my lips. Slowly, he lifted me off him and I slumped down on the rug beside him as he sat up to join me. His arms encircled me from behind as he sleepily buried his face in my neck.

"I think we're going to need another shower after this," I remarked, and he laughed quietly into my shoulder.

"I don't think even that'd make us clean."

I grinned. "True." Getting to my feet with some difficulty on shaky legs, I headed to the bathroom. After tidying myself up a little, I pulled the discarded robe back on and padded through to the living room. It was empty, so I paused, looking around.

"Jasper?" I called.

"In here," came the faint reply, and I realised he'd returned to the bedroom. When I entered the room, I found him sitting on the edge of the bed, having pulled on some pajama pants and a t-shirt. Frankly it was almost a shame – he was fucking delicious shirtless, and even more so naked. Although, he obviously looked good anyway. Impulsively, I leaned in and kissed his nose and he smiled.

"Hey, you," he said, pulling me towards him for a lazy kiss. "I was wondering...seeing as I'm pretty tired, and you probably are too, we could order pizza and maybe just watch a movie or something?"

I sighed happily. "That sounds absolutely divine right now."

We spent the rest of the afternoon slumped on the couch in the living room with the comforter over us, watching TV and eating pizza. It didn't have the glamour of the previous night's date, but to me, it was no less romantic.

I watched him wince as a strand of molten cheese dropped from my slice onto the comforter, but he restrained himself from saying anything. I fell for him just that little bit more right then.

"You're going to shove this in the washing machine as soon as I leave, aren't you?" I teased, and he frowned.

"What makes you think that?" he said a little crossly, and I laughed.

"You're really cute sometimes, you know that?" I said, casually running my fingers through his hair. He sighed heavily, but I saw the smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

Without warning, he brought his mouth to mine and kissed me gently. Our lips were greasy from the pizza and it should have been gross, but it wasn't – it was lovely. I knew we weren't there yet, but it seemed to me that this was what love was supposed to feel like. I'd genuinely forgotten what it was like after so long, but with Jasper, I was rediscovering it.

…

Later that afternoon, I let myself into my house, still in a bit of a daze. Jasper had lent me one of t-shirts, which I'd worn over my dress from last night to avoid the "walk of shame" look. I went upstairs to change into some jeans and a hoodie and then went down to the kitchen. I wasn't hungry after all the pizza I'd ingested that afternoon, but I was pretty exhausted and craving another hit of caffeine. Rummaging in the cupboards, I was so intent on finding the coffee that I didn't hear the soft pad of footsteps on the linoleum. Fingers touched my arm, and I jumped about a foot into the air before I saw Angela there, a quizzical look on her face.

"Bella, it's only me," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "Guess I'm just jumpy. And in desperate need of coffee."

"Oh, right!" she said. "I think Jess put it in the bottom cupboard for some reason." She reached down and opened the cupboard, and sure enough, the coffee was there. I brewed some for us, poured it into a couple of mugs, and then we sat down at the table. Cradling the mug in my hands, I inhaled the deep, rich aroma and took a sip. _Ahh. Bliss_.

"So, where were you last night?" she asked casually, but with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

Naturally, I turned beetroot-red, and an idiotic grin came to my face before I could stop it. Clearing my throat pointedly, I took a sip of my coffee, concentrating intently on the tabletop before me. I couldn't bring myself to meet her eyes.

"Relax, Bella – I was only teasing," she said after a moment, laughing.

"I slept with him," I admitted, knowing I couldn't exactly pretend otherwise.

"Oh, good for you! I'm sorry, but I could tell you were totally crazy about the guy. That's so obvious," she gushed in a very un-Angela way. I was quickly realising that she only seemed so quiet and demure when you didn't know her. She was really just as into talking about this kind of stuff as most girls were, just not in the annoying way that girls like Jess would. Angela didn't fish for details or anything, she just took an interest in things like any good friend would. I really appreciated that.

"It is?" I replied slowly, wondering if I was that transparent. Although, considering it, I had spent an inordinate amount of time either thinking about Jasper or seeing him of late, and he often came up in my conversations without me realising it. That was the sort of thing I did when I really liked someone, and I'd spent too long denying it to myself and others. "I guess I am, really."

"Aww. That's lovely. He sounds like a great guy to me."

"Yeah, but it's kind of complicated," I said with a sigh.

Angela's features twisted into a sympathetic expression. "How so?"

"We're both a bit wary of getting too involved, I suppose. Jasper's dealing with something pretty tough."

"I thought you were too," she said shrewdly, stirring some Sweet'n'Low into her coffee. "It sounds like you might each be just what the other needs right now."

My face creased into a smile at that. I hadn't thought of it that way enough. Trust Angela to be that perceptive. Sometimes she just said something that described a situation so perfectly, and that was one of those moments. It was also the moment where I decided I didn't want to hide from what had happened to me anymore.

"Look, I've never really explained about that night where I was sobbing all over you," I began, nervously tugging at a stray thread on the cuff of my hoodie. Twisting the thread round my fingers, I pulled until it came away, and then found the courage to look up into her eyes.

Angela was as calm and open as ever, and her reply was typical of her. "Like I said, you don't have to tell me."

"But I never tell anyone," I replied. "This time, I want to."

And so I decided to tell her about Edward. I explained it briefly and managed to not turn into a complete wreck, despite the tears that were insistently pricking at my eyes by the time I'd finished. Thankfully, she reacted just as I'd expected she would – she didn't pity me or pepper the conversation with _oh no_ and_ how awful that must be_ or worst, _I know how you feel_. She just listened, and when I was done, she squeezed my hand and got a box of leftover chocolate caramels out of her cupboard. We shared them while drinking our coffee, listening to the rain that had started up outside as it pattered on the roof. I didn't want to talk about it much more once I'd explained, and she respected that. We indulged in a bit of mindless girl-talk about Jasper and Ben, and it was nice to have someone to share it with for once.

Angela and Ben were spending a lot of time together, and it seemed like they were already getting pretty serious. It was sweet to see, and I wondered whether Jasper and I would ever get there. Of course, there was no point getting ahead of myself – with everything we were dealing with, it was best to take things at a natural pace.

Mindlessly surfing the internet in my room a little while later, my thoughts kept straying to the enormous bombshell Jasper had dropped the previous night. It was hard to even think of what he'd told me without welling up, so I knew the pain he felt must have been a thousand times worse. It had caught me off guard, but I hoped I'd reacted in the appropriate way by being as supportive and understanding as I could have been. When he'd first confessed, it was obvious that he thought I might think less of him, or just make a run for it right then and there. I almost wanted to feel hurt that he'd think that of me, but I reasoned with myself that I was one of the only people he'd told. Jasper had enough intimacy problems as it was, without the added burden of my reaction to his secret, and so I could understand.

Seeing such a strong man broken with pain, the mask stripped away, had utterly broken my heart. Maybe it was too much for the both of us to handle right now. Our relationship was probably breaking every rule in the book on dealing with grief, but we'd become so close that there didn't seem to be any other way for us. I couldn't not be with him, not see him, not have him hold me or make love to me like he did.

While I was lost in my own musings, my phone buzzed with a text and I automatically reached for it.

_I haven't stopped thinking about you since you left._

Smiling to myself, I read the text several times, feeling the familiar butterflies in my stomach. It was cheesy and romantic, but I knew Jasper. He meant every word.

It wasn't the first time I'd admitted it to myself, but, God help me, I loved Jasper Whitlock. Hopefully, that would be the one thing that made all the difference.

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**Yep, more porn. I promise this isn't going to be one of those stories where once they start fucking it's _all_ they do, just, well...sometimes smut's fun. They both deserve it after all. Reviews are squeed over. Thanks for reading xxx**


	22. The Tell

**I know this took a while, but my life has been so busy that I'm struggling to find enough time for writing and such. I've read and loved all your reviews. I endeavour to reply to as many as I can, but sometimes RL stuff just gets in the way. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter and feel free to leave me feedback if you wish. I adore you all who still keep up with this story.  
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**** Thanks to tiffannyanne3 for betaing this chapter **.  
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**_Song: Mercy Me - Alkaline Trio_**

**Chapter 22: The Tell  
**

**JPOV**

I liked Monday mornings. On that particular Monday, I woke up early, went for a long run that left the sweat pouring off me and then came back to clean my already perfectly neat apartment. Maybe it was dull, humdrum – but I always liked my routines. They gave purpose to my sometimes chaotic life. Of course, nothing was quite the same anymore, because there was Bella.

_Bella._

I muttered her name out loud, musing how sweet those two syllables sounded to me. The name meant beautiful – I didn't think there was a name that would suit her more. She'd taken my breath away that first night she walked into _Phoenix_, but as I'd gradually learned more about her, I'd grown to care for her in so many other ways.

Her presence had apparently been so soothing that I'd managed to have two nights of the best sleep I'd ever had. After a shower, I headed through to my bedroom to tidy up a bit. As I fluffed my pillows and straightened my comforter, I thought about Bella. I missed her. I'd only seen her yesterday, but there was already an ache in my chest from her absence. That was pretty pathetic, but it was true. I'd expected her to run away screaming or tell me she couldn't handle it right now. Well, actually - that was kind of a lie. From what I'd already experienced of Bella's personality, I knew her to be kind and compassionate. Still, that was a hell of a lot for anyone to process, especially in the early stages of the relationship.

I had to tell her, though. I knew if I didn't, I'd end up doing what I always did. Out of fear of the reaction when she eventually did find out, I'd become emotionally closed-off and distant around her until she or I eventually ended things. That was what had happened in the few attempts I'd made to form any meaningful relationships after I arrived in the UK all those years ago. Because I couldn't tell them, there was no chance of anything getting off the ground.

Telling Bella that I'd killed my little girl had been one of the hardest things I had ever done. I normally avoided directly thinking of Ava and what happened. It would usually result in hot, angry tears, drinking too much whiskey and occasionally breaking my possessions or punching the wall until my knuckles were lacerated to the point of agony. A sick form of punishing myself, I supposed. It made me wonder if I had any cause to judge Bella for what she did to herself. I'd been punishing myself for too long, but I didn't know how to stop it. I hoped that being with her was a step in the right direction – actually allowing myself to open up and be vulnerable with another human being. I'd laid all my ugliness out bare for her to see, and she hadn't run away. She just held me – and not in that half-hearted way that people sometimes do if you drop a bomb like that on them.

She really_ held _me.

When I remembered her silently wrapping her arms round me, not saying a word or interrupting, just letting me know that she accepted me, I was deeply touched. She cared for me probably more than deserved, and I would put all my energy into not fucking this up. Bella was fragile enough as it was without me adding to her misery. In some ways I was, too – I just hid it better.

I abandoned the excessive tidying of my bedroom after a minute or two and headed out into the hall. As I passed the doors of the big closet, I suddenly stopped.

_Was I ready?_

As ready as I'd ever be, really. With a deep breath, I opened the doors and rummaged to the back of the closet for that little blue box I hadn't opened in at least three years. I took it through to the living room, sat down on the sofa and started to peel off the scotch tape wrapped round it with shaking hands. When I'd removed it all, my hand paused on the lid as I again wondered if it was the right time to open it. My heart was pounding, and not in the good way – the way that makes your blood feel like lead creeping through your veins, with every beat crashing loudly in your ears.

Prising the lid open, I wasn't at all surprised by what I found. I knew every item in that box like the back of my hand. There was a stack of photos of me, Alice, and Ava. My former family. I flicked through them, tracing the faces absent-mindedly. Strange how a camera can capture a moment in all its perfection, and even when that perfection has long passed, the evidence still remains. There were images of Alice in the hospital, looking exhausted but happy, my arms round her and our new baby girl. Then there were ones of trips to the park, me holding Ava while she splashed in the sea, tiny chubby legs kicking happily. And so many of Alice and I – beautiful, laughing Alice with her flowing hair and her kind brown eyes. I'd almost forgotten how she used to look at me, as if I was the only person in the world for her. It gave me a pang that I could barely remember these moments, and could only clearly recall their transformation into bitterness and hatred. Dropping the photos to the sofa, I delved further into the box, next finding a cast of tiny hand and footprints. I traced the outlines, remembering how I used to tickle Ava's tiny toes when I bathed her. She'd laugh and laugh, a sound I never got tired of. There used to be so much laughter and love in that house, and it hurt. I felt a real physical pain clenching in my chest, and my eyes were wet. I missed her so much, and wondered what she'd look like now. She'd be almost six, going to kindergarten and bringing home pictures she'd drawn and little projects for us to display around the house.

A quiet sob burst forth from me as I pulled the last item from the box: a miniscule pair of blue t-bar shoes. They were the first ones we'd bought for her, and she'd been so excited to have a pair of real shoes at last. She'd danced around the house in them way past her bedtime, resisting attempts from an amused Alice and I to get her to go to sleep. I held one tiny shoe in my palm, feeling how it barely weighed anything.

My eyes flickered around this room, with its sparse glass and chrome, its white furniture and walls. I normally liked the minimalist nature of my place, but right then it felt as if it had no warmth. The full-length mirror in the corner with its sharp, silvery edges seemed to be mocking me. I walked over and stared into its depths, and I hated facing the image that stared back at me. I was shaking like a fucking leaf, and I'd never felt less of a man than I did right then. I was a wreck. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but before I knew what was happening I'd hurled the shoe at the glass. The mirror cracked down the middle with a satisfying crunch, some small shards dropping to the carpet. I felt like punching it with my hand to shatter it even further, but I wasn't sure how I'd explain my cut hands to Bella, or Esme who I was supposed to be going round to see that afternoon. Bending down, I fished the shoe from the wreckage, brushing the mirror glass off it reverently as I placed it back in the box.

I opened the window as wide as it could go and lit a cigarette, leaning on the sill while I smoked it as if my life depended on it. Why had I thought I was ready for that? But then, as painful as it was, it had been momentarily pleasant to remind myself of the short time I had with my perfect little daughter, and the wife I'd once loved so much.

_I'm so sorry, baby girl,_ I thought desperately, tears running down my face. Minutes later, I came to my senses and realised I was supposed to be at Esme's in a few minutes. Leaving the mess of broken mirror for later, I grabbed a jacket and banged out of the flat, wanting to get as far away from my wretched life as possible.

On my short walk to the bus stop, I managed to consume five cigarettes in quick succession. Given my mental state, it wasn't surprising, and I was strangely glad I wasn't seeing Bella later that day. I didn't want to make her worry for me on top of everything else she had to deal with. When I jumped off the bus in Hampstead just a few minutes later, I stopped and took a deep lungful of clear, fresh air. It was probably an illusion, as we were still very much in the city, and the air was just as full of crap and pollutants as elsewhere, but it felt cleaner here. High on the hills above the rest of London, the quiet streets and trees everywhere made Hampstead an incredibly peaceful place. Esme had stopped by my place for a quick coffee last week on her way to some wedding shop in Camden, but we hadn't properly hung out in a while.

With anyone else, I wouldn't have wanted them to see me in my current state, but with Esme I strangely didn't mind. I suppose that was because she already knew everything about me anyway, and nothing would really surprise her. Her calm, motherly presence was exactly what I needed right then. Walking the route I knew so well in a daze, I soon found myself outside the white house with its neatly kept window boxes. Esme must have glanced out the window and seen me, because the buzzer sounded instantly before I'd even reached for the intercom.

As soon as I opened the door, a small woman leapt on me and wrapped her arms round me – Esme, of course.

"Hey, hey," I laughed, drawing back to kiss her on the cheek. "Don't knock the wind out of me. Happy to see you too."

"I missed you, Jasper," she said with a cheerful smile, but it instantly slipped from her face when we stepped out of the darkness of the hall and she saw how I looked. "God, are you okay? What's happened?"

"I don't know if I can talk about it," I muttered in a strained tone, sinking into one of the chairs as I felt like I was about to collapse. Grief and anger were incredibly exhausting, and even though it was early afternoon, I was ready to drop.

Esme was remarkably businesslike, but it was what I needed just then. If she'd been gentle and affectionate would have probably made me break into a million pieces and had me sobbing into her neck.

"Right," she nodded, obvious concern showing on her face as she simultaneously tried to hide the extent of it. "You look like you could do with a drink. There's some vodka in the freezer."

"Absolutely," I said weakly, raising my head briefly from where I'd been resting it on the edge of the dining table. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to stop my head spinning and my heart beating like a bass drum.

"And how about something to eat?" she coaxed as she brought the drink over. I shook my head and took a large sip, grimacing as the clear liquid burned my throat. However, it had the desired effect – within a minute, I felt as if the edges of the shock and grief caused by that box of memories had softened. The pain dulled, leaving only the familiar ache within my chest that I was pretty used to. Esme just sat beside me, a soothing hand on my shoulder. She said nothing, just patiently waited for me to calm down. I drained the last of my vodka and sat up, blinking.

"Are you sure you won't have something to eat, Jazz?" she pressed gently, and at that exact moment, my stomach rumbled extremely loudly. I smiled weakly, remembering I hadn't eaten since breakfast, and that wasn't exactly helping my faint state.

"Something small would be great."

"I was just going to make some chicken quesadillas. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great, Esme," I told her, nodding. As she got up to make them, I caught hold of her wrist, causing her to turn around. "Hey," I added. "Thanks. Really. For being here."

She reached over and tucked a stray curl behind my ear. "Always."

She busily started chopping ingredients, and soon the air was thick with the smells of garlic, jalapeňos, and peppers. Despite the state I was in, I was starting to feel extremely hungry. Esme's cooking was always great and could tempt me even in the worst of moments.

"So how's everything with you?" I asked her, wanting to deflect attention away from myself.

"Busy!" she said with a laugh as she grated some cheese. "I'm doing extra hours at the library. One of my colleagues is sick, and we're really short staffed at the minute. I can always use the extra money, though."

"Well, you've got always got your rich doctor," I teased, and she tutted, amused though she was.

"Our mortgage payments are quite high, you know," she said, still laughing lightly to herself.

I watched her throw the ingredients together seamlessly, and after what seemed like only seconds, Esme placed a steaming plate in front of me. Taking a triangle, I bit into it. It was delicious – spicy and tangy with the peppers, onions and chicken, and the cheese was melted and gooey in the middle. Swallowing, I took another tentative bite, still not trusting my stomach to deal with food right then. Unexpectedly, though, it settled my stomach, soothing the churning that had built up within me all that morning. Before I knew it, I'd finished the entire plate and Esme was sitting beside me serenely, looking approving.

"I'm glad you ate something for once, Jasper. I worry about you sometimes." She put her hand on my arm, and all at once I knew that she was aware of why I was upset.

"Look, Esme, I-" I began, but she held up a hand to stop me.

"You don't have to talk about it, Jazz," she said softly, and I could see tears glistening beneath her eyelids. She took a large sip of her vodka, not even flinching as she swallowed back the acrid liquid.

"No," I replied firmly. "I do. I never fucking talk about it, which is probably part of the reason I'm in the state that I am now. The state I've existed in for years. Something about seeing Bella, I don't know – it's like she woke me up when I was dead and numb. Now I can feel everything again, and even though it hurts like hell, I know that it's right. That it's how I would have felt at the time if I hadn't suppressed it."

Esme leaned forward and buried her face in my hair, wrapping her arms round me. She knew me well enough not to say a thing just then. The woman was far smaller than me, yet her hugs were so enveloping and comforting. I was reminded of what a good mother I was sure she'd make, and how sad it was that she and Carlisle were unable to conceive.

When she drew back, she studied me curiously for a moment before she spoke.

"I think it's probably the healthiest thing you've ever done for yourself in a long time. Bella is wonderful, and she seems to understand you."

"She has her reasons," I said cryptically, wanting to explain how but not wanting to betray Bella's confidence at the same time.

"I know something terrible happened to her." Esme nodded. "But it's her story to tell, and if you can help each other, then I think that could be the best thing of all."

A low, constricted sigh escaped me as I was struck with the thought that Bella was really out of my league. _What on earth does she want with someone like me, anyway? A divorced guy who killed his baby daughter in an accident?_ I had far too much baggage for the average woman. But then, Bella was far from the average woman. She understood the pain of loss so well, and not for the first time, I felt hope.

"Don't think that," Esme broke in sternly, tipping my chin up with her hand.

_That damn woman. _I could swear that Esme was a witch, given her uncanny ability to know just what I was thinking at any given time.

"I'm trying not to," I said, tugging at a lock of my messy hair just for something to do. She smoothed it fondly.

"I know."

"I told Bella about Ava last night, you know." The words were a thick monotone as I wrenched them from my throat.

"I figured as much." A warm hand found mine in a sympathetic squeeze. "How did she take it?"

"Better than I deserved," I said shortly, swallowing back a sob. "It's me that hasn't taken it so well."

My heart pounding, I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the same little shoe that had smashed the mirror glass only a short while earlier. I held it out to Esme and she took it from me gently, her expression softening. I watched the interplay of emotions across her face – the shadow of pity she immediately tried to hide, followed by sadness and a wistful expression.

"I think I need another drink, too," she said after a moment, and I saw her face had drained of colour. She poured us another couple of glasses of vodka with visibly shaking hands. I watched her knock hers back in a distinctly un-Esme way, and then it was my turn to be worried about her.

"I'm sorry," she said after a minute or two, her voice stronger. "Seeing that just brought it home for me how much has happened to you. And I know this sounds selfish, but it reminded me of the way things are for me. Do you know how many pairs of these little things I keep hidden in a little case under the bed?" She smiled sadly, her fingertips tracing the buckle of the tiny shoe reverently.

_Poor, poor Esme. _I really felt for her, and strangely enough, the fact that a person who was normally so together was letting their guard down around me comforted me. Made me feel less

pathetic, if that was even possible.

"Carlisle doesn't know I kept them from back when we were trying. Before I knew that the surgery I had years ago had affected my fertility," she went on. "It's not that he doesn't know I get upset from time to time, but we both try and stay positive. There's no hope of us ever having a child naturally, though. I'm...barren."

I shook my head. "Don't use that word. You were just unlucky. But whether it's your baby biologically or not, I know that someday you will be a _great_ mom."

Though her face was tear-stained, she smiled that smile of hers that exuded warmth and contentment to anyone who saw it. "Thank you, Jasper. That means a lot, especially coming from you. On a more positive note, I've actually got something to tell you."

"What?" I asked, intrigued. Esme and I usually shared any important changes in our life, so it was a surprise to me if I hadn't know about whatever that was.

"We've decided to adopt. Carlisle and I started the application process a few weeks ago. We had a preliminary interview last week, and I think it went well, although you can't tell."

I squeezed her arm. "Of course it went well. I bet you impressed the hell out of them."

Esme tried to remain stony-faced, but there was a hint of a smile on her face.

"This is just the beginning, of course. Social workers will need to visit our home and observe us and check everything, and we'll have to provide more paperwork and references. I was actually going to ask...Jasper, would you-?"

"I'd be more than happy to," I cut in. "I just hope I can do you justice."

"You don't know how much I appreciate it. Thank you."

"We're a state, aren't we?" I said, and she giggled.

I clinked my glass against hers. "Cheers." We spent the next hour or so chatting and finishing the last of the quesadillas.

"Goodness, is that the time?" Esme remarked suddenly, hiccuping. She'd probably had a little more vodka than I had even. "I should probably make dinner or something."

"You're such a housewife," I teased, and she painfully flicked one of my knuckles.

"With that attitude, I might have to ask you to get out of my house," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"I think I actually will, if you don't mind. I should probably..."

"Call Bella and invite her over?" Esme smiled knowingly. "Go. Do it. She's what you need right now."

"She is," I agreed. And I knew Esme was right. There was nothing I needed more right then than Bella, the person who always made my demons slumber. "I have to work tonight, though," I added, making a face. "If I don't go in Pete will think I've gone AWOL."

"I guess you'll see her tomorrow or something."

"You're an amazing friend, you know," I said slowly. I wasn't prone to these kind of emotional statements with Esme. The close bond we shared was normally an unspoken thing, but I just wanted to tell her what she meant to me. "I sometimes don't know how I'd survive without you. There's nobody else who I can be a pathetic wreck with who won't judge me even a little."

"Sometimes I do judge just a little," she admitted. "But only when you do things like, oh, making a girl sleep on the couch."

I groaned. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Nope." She grinned. Esme Platt was a damn saint, that was certain. Sometimes, a good friend is all you need to put things in perspective. I cared for Bella, and she cared for me. Somehow, we'd work this out, even though I felt sick and hollow still from the emotional fallout of what I'd confessed. There was no way around it anymore. I was going to have to go through it, but Bella would be there beside me every step of the way.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! xxx**


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